


Wild Fire

by crazddreamer



Category: AEW, All Elite Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Domestic Violence, F/M, Fingering, Mention of death or murder, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PTSD, Slow Burn, Stalking, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:14:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 66,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22946098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazddreamer/pseuds/crazddreamer
Summary: Blair Corrigian is in danger. Chris Jericho has a solution. And that solution's name is Lance Archer.Lance needs a place to stay and Blair needs a protector. Two head-strong individuals fighting their attraction to each other while trying to stay alive, what could go wrong?
Relationships: Lance Archer/OFC
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is heavily based off domestic violence, stalking, and assault. If any one of these topics is triggering to you, please do not read!

Sitting in my old beat up car, I sobbed into my hands. Tears streaked down my face and dripped onto my blue jeans. Staring at the police department building across the street, I cursed them with every ounce of vitriol I had in my body.

_There’s nothing we can do._

_Unless you have proof, you can’t get a restraining order._

_Are you sure you didn’t provoke him?_

The officer’s voices echoed in my head, and I pounded my fist against the steering wheel. I had done everything I could think of to run from my ex-fiancé once I got the courage to go. I moved across the country, changed phone numbers, and stayed off grid as much as I could. I didn’t have a bank account, I worked under the table for tips at a ratty old biker bar, and I didn’t have any credit cards. I was absolutely sure I could not be tracked.

I was wrong.

I had begun getting weird text messages to my new phone detailing what I had done that day, and where I had gone. Then flowers started showing up for me at work. Always red lilies. They were once my favorite, but that wasn’t true anymore.

But the catalyst was what was currently spray painted on the side of my car in bright orange letters.

**M I N E**

He was here, watching me, and the police were not going to help.

Wiping my face with the heels of my hands, I flipped down the visor to check my make up. Groaning at my reflection, seeing the smudges of mascara and smeared eye liner on my face, I dug into my purse to try to fix the damage done. It wasn’t great, but it would do, I thought as I slapped the visor back into place.

Sticking my tongue out at the police department, I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. I had to go to work, but my mind was racing. My eyes darted rapidly, trying to pay attention to the traffic around me, but also scanning the sidewalks for any sign of blonde hair and stocky shoulders. Tension in my shoulders had me hunched over the steering wheel and pain shooting up my neck, causing a headache to rival all other headaches.

Taking two left turns and heading down the highway out of town, it only took about fifteen minutes to reach Fozzy’s Biker Bar. It was off the road, at the end of a derelict strip mall that held a Chinese restaurant and a pawn shop. Bikes of all kinds were lined up in front of the bar, a couple of guys smoking and laughing near the front door.

I smiled at them and waved as I passed by. Most were regulars, and after the shit start to my day, it was nice to see some friendly faces. Entering the bar just as the sun sank below the horizon, I allowed my eyes to adjust to the dark, dingy state of the room before winding through the tables and customers. Fozzy’s was a second generation owned bar, and it looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since the day it opened. Smokey, gritty, and grimy, and that was on the days I took a scrub brush to the bar top. The floors were wood planked, a small stage was in the far corner, but the bar with it’s wall to wall shelving of alcohol, was Chris Jericho’s pride and joy.

Jericho owned Fozzy’s, treated it like it was his baby, and he looked out for his employees. His Inner Circle, he called us. We were like family, extended, but family all the same. Sammy G, the youngest of the crew, was in the corner with a push broom, dancing and singing along with the jukebox. Santana and Ortiz, originally from New York, sat in the corner near the door playing cards. Jericho himself was behind the bar as I rounded the end and put my purse in the safe, drying glasses and eyeballing the thread bare thin crowd.

“Where the fuck is everyone?” he grumbled.

Smiling at his tone, I kissed his cheek and moved over to the register to sign in for my shift. “There are a few guys outside smoking.”

“They can smoke in here, what the fuck are they doing out there?”

I ignored his surly attitude and grabbed a rag to wipe down the sink and counter. It was sticky from spilled liquor, and I mentally rolled my eyes at being the only one who gave a shit that the place was nasty.

Catching sight of Sammy still singing into the end of the broom, I yelled at him. “Sammy! This place is gross! Get to sweeping and start wiping down those tables!”

Startled, Sammy jerked the broom so hard it smacked him in the lip and I had to bite my own to keep from laughing. “Bel-Air!” he sang at me. “How did it go?”

Immediately, my mood soured. The miracle of Fozzy’s was that as soon as I stepped through the doors, I felt safe and secure. I was with my friends, nothing could happen to me. But I was terrified every night to leave, to go back to my house and stay up all night with a baseball bat glued to my hands. Fozzy’s gave me a small respite before I had to go back to my reality.

Jericho set a glass down in front of a bald guy wearing sunglasses indoors while a few of the men from outside finally made their way inside to sit down. They threw their hand up and Jericho indicated that he saw them, but he turned to look at me. “Yeah, Blair. What did the police say?”

I saw Santana and Ortiz lift their heads from their card game, clearly listening in to the conversation as Sammy moved behind the bar, dragging his broom with him. Sighing, I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

“Nothing. There isn’t anything they can do because I have no proof.” Reaching up, I gripped my long hair in my hand and twisted it over my shoulder. It was a nervous gesture, but one I couldn’t control.

Jericho cursed. “Fucking bullshit. I knew they would just sit around with their thumb up their asses. I’m gonna take care of this!”

“Jericho, wait!” I called as he stormed off with a flip of his long blonde hair. I didn’t know what that meant, but if I was being honest with myself, letting someone else deal with my ex sounded pretty damn good to me.

Sammy gave me an apologetic smile and went back to sweeping as I poured beers for Table 8. I was exhausted, worn out, mentally and physically. I felt as if I was dragging myself through the days by my fingernails, getting from point A to point B without much thought or reasoning. Working distracted me, and I took as many shifts as Jericho would allow before yelling at me to go home and sleep. I rarely did, though.

In the next few hours, the bar slowly began to fill up with bikers, men and woman, laughing and drinking to their hearts content. Our crowd was usually pretty lively, good natured people who just wanted to have a good time. The locals kept me laughing with their banter and Jericho kept the party going by performing a few songs on the stage.

Sammy took over at the bar while I escaped to use the bathroom and check my messages. After washing my hands, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and immediately felt the blood drain out of my face.

**You went to the fucking cops? Wrong move, Baby**

The number was unlisted, as it had been every other time, but I knew who it was. My hands were shaking. Putting my phone back into my pocket I gripped the sink, trying to calm my breathing and hold back the panicked tears that wanted to break free.

Jake Hager was never going to let me go, was never going to leave me alone. Our relationship was like a match and gasoline from the very start, combative and combustive. Our first kiss happened after our first fight, and that should have told me everything I needed to know. But I thought I could change him, gentle him with my loyalty, show him how to love.

I was wrong.

He was possessive and controlling, obsessive and neurotic. My days were planned out by the hour, and I was watched by cameras when he wasn’t at home. I only agreed to marry him thinking he would loosen the reins a bit. Mistakenly I thought if he realized I wasn’t leaving him, he’d begin to trust me. But that day never came.

Coming back to myself, I splashed water on my face and blotted the dampness with a paper towel. The mirror reflected the terror in my eyes so I quickly looked away.

Upon opening the door I was hit in the face with the noise from the bar, and I felt myself calm down a little bit. Fozzy’s was the safest place I could be right now. Santana and Ortiz would never let anyone matching Jake’s description through the door, and Jericho had his eyes on my back the whole time I was in the building. Sammy had 911 on speed dial.

I made my way down the wood paneled hallway and watched as Jericho stepped my way as if to greet me.

“I’ve got a plan, and I need you to trust me.” His eyes were intense when they met mine.

All I could do was nod, intrigued to see what he was thinking. He turned to head back to the bar and I followed him. My eyes immediately caught sight of a newcomer at the end of the bar top sitting on a stool. His long legs stretched out into the walkway, forcing people to walk around him as they moved past. He was tall, very tall, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses, an American flag bandana wrapped around his forehead holding back his long dark hair.

He was dressed in jeans and boots, with a black long sleeve shirt. He was covered from head to toe and yet I still felt myself drawn to him. I wanted to see his eyes, discover who the man was behind those shades. His posture said aloof, but I knew without a shadow of a doubt he was aware of every person in the building.

Stopping in front of him, Jericho pointed from him to me. “Blair, meet Lance Archer. Archer, this is the girl I was telling you about.”

His head turned to my direction and I felt my heart stutter in my chest. His expression was hidden, but I knew I had his attention. “Pleasure.”

His voice sent shivers down my spine and I looked at Jericho with a confused look. “What is going on?”

My boss took a step back from me with his hands extended as if to ward me off. “Hear me out. Archer here needs a place to stay. You have a room available. He’s done work as private security and has time on his hands.”

My brain was spinning, trying to put together what Jericho was planning. Risking a glance at Archer, who was raking my body with his eyes, I reached up to twist my hair in my hand. “What are you saying, Chris?”

Exasperated, he motioned between me and Archer. “Archer is going to be your private security for a place to stay.”


	2. Chapter 2

“What?” I exclaimed, causing heads to turn. Even over the loud music of the jukebox, people heard my protest. “He’s a stranger, and you want me to let him in my house?”

Archer shifted on the bar stool, but didn’t say anything. I did see his lip twitch though.

“Blair, listen, I’ve known Archer for years. He’s rough around the edges but he’ll do the job and keep you safe.”

I had imagined that Jericho would have been embarrassed to present this idea to me, a complete stranger in my house, but he was steadfast and urgent. Looking back at Archer, I put a hand on my hip and glared at him.

“And how do you feel about all this? Do you really want to watch over me and protect me from my ex?”

A slow smile and cocky attitude spread across his face. “Baby, I’d watch over you for a pack of smokes and a handjob.”

His words should have offended me, but I felt myself wanting to laugh instead. Keeping my face blank, I shot back, “Do you even smoke?”

He gave a half shrug. “No, but I may need one after I get done with you.”

Blushing, I rolled my eyes. “That’s not part of the deal, so forget it. Room and board for protection. Understand?” I couldn’t believe the words came out of my mouth. Was I actually agreeing to this crazy idea of Jericho’s?

Archer took a drink of his beer and then set it back down. “Protection means 24/7, sweetheart. I hope you like my face because you’ll be seeing it for a long time.”

Trying to suppress the urge to groan, I turned back to Jericho, pleading with him. “This is your plan? Shacking us up together? I don’t know him!”

“If you trust me, you’ll trust Archer. Blair, I’m promising you, nothing will happen to you with Archer around.”

Archer stood up and chuckled. “Nothing you don’t want, anyway.” He tossed a couple of bills on the bar top. As I whined at Jericho and stomped my foot, Archer’s eyes caught the motion. “Get all that brattiness out now. I’m going to scope your place out and drop my stuff off. I’ll be back to pick you up at closing time.”

Glaring at him, I repressed the urge to give him my middle finger. “You don’t even have a key.”

Jericho dipped his shoulders. “I gave him my spare.”

“What?” I yelled, shoving him hard. “I swear to God, Chris, I’m going to beat your ass!”

As Jericho dragged me by my arm to his office, he yelled back at Archer who was walking towards the door. “That fucker likes cameras!” Archer flicked his finger in the air, indicating that he had heard him.

My face drained of all color and I stopped struggling, allowing him to close the door behind us.

“I know you don’t like this idea, Blair, but it’s the best option I could come up with.” Pacing in front of me, he tossed his long blonde hair up into a bun. “If the cops won’t do their damn jobs, we’re all rallying around you. But none of us have experience in this, you understand that right? If Jake comes here, we’ll all beat his ass. But we know that won’t happen. He’ll go to your house, or he’ll find you at the grocery store.”

I had begun to shake as Jericho kept talking. He was bringing to light my worst fears, things I had never spoken about, but had thought of in the middle of the night while wrapped around my baseball bat. His office chair creaked under me, but I paid it no mind.

“You may be my employee, but you are also my friend. And Lance Archer can protect you in ways none of us can.” He stopped in front of me with his arms spread. “Please tell me you’ll do this.”

Clearing my throat, I nodded. “Well, I guess it’s better than Santana and Ortiz camped out on my couch.”

Jericho heaved out a big sigh and gripped my shoulders. “Thank you! Now, finish your shift and do not leave this building until Archer gets back.”

The hackles on the back of my neck rose up at being told what to do, but I suppressed it. I was going to have to get used to being ordered around if I wanted to stay alive. The men in my life were just trying to keep me safe, but their demanding natures were getting on my nerves really quickly.

I tried my best to focus on drink orders and cleaning up, and before I knew it, it was nearing 2 AM. The last of the customers mumbled their goodnights and left, Santana and Ortiz right behind them to make sure there were no fights in the parking lot.

Sammy had already left, and it was just me and Jericho closing down for the night. I watched as he emptied the cash register and put it in a bank bag, grumbling to himself.

“What’s the matter with you?” I asked, stacking glasses as I dried them.

He looked at me over his shoulder before filling out the deposit slip. “It would make my life a hell of a lot easier if I could let you take this to the bank. It’s on your way home.”

Looking back down at my hands, I bit my lip. A part of me felt great that he trusted me that much, but we both knew why he couldn’t risk it. “The midnight drive will do you good. Crank some tunes and decompress before you go home,” I suggested.

Jericho continued to mutter to himself, in a mood I couldn’t pull him out of, so I ignored it. Sighing as I finished, I grabbed my purse from under the bar.

“All done. See you in a couple of days.” I was off the next day.

He nodded. “Archer is outside waiting for you.”

If my feet had brakes, I would have skidded to a stop. Amazingly, I had forgotten about my deal with Lance Archer. Well, maybe not entirely, but I secretly harbored the hope that he had disappeared when he hadn’t come back inside the bar.

It was my turn to mutter obscenities as I left, Jericho following me to lock the door behind me. Walking down the short sidewalk to the side of the building, I found Archer with his arms crossed over his broad chest, his back to me, eyeballing the side of my car.

I stopped beside him, my stomach sick at seeing the spray-painted message left for me.

**M I N E**

It floated in my head when I closed my eyes and echoed in my ears. I could hear Jake’s voice, growling it as he shoved me into a wall or slapped my face.

“You know, Jericho gave me the run down, but this kind of makes it real, doesn’t it?”

I looked up at him, craning my neck to see his expression. Archer was easily a foot and a half taller than me, making looking into his eyes really difficult. His sunglasses were now perched on his forehead, the bandana keeping it in place. He eyes were shrewd, focused on the side of my car, possibly seeing things I wouldn’t even know to look for. His tone was serious, and I felt a chill go down my back.

“It’s very real. Although the cops say this isn’t proof. Could have just been stupid teenagers tagging cars in the neighborhood.” I sounded bitter even to my own ears.

Tugging both his sleeves up to his elbows, exposing his strong, corded forearms, he gave a slight shrug. “Sure, could be. If it was an isolated incident. But I’m told you have calls, text messages, and flowers showing up on a regular basis. That right?”

As he turned to look down at me, the chill was replaced with a sudden heat. His hazel eyes look determined and haunted. Shifting on my feet, I nodded. “That’s right.”

He looked around the parking lot. “We’ve been out here too long. I’ll follow you.” Without another word he circled my car and opened the driver’s side door. I stood rooted to the spot, not knowing how to react. I couldn’t remember anyone ever opening a car door for me. “Hello, Earth to Blair. Get in the car!”

Archer’s exasperated tone finally propelled me to move and I hoped the darkness hid my blush. Climbing in and placing my purse on the seat next to me, I watched out the window as he climbed onto his bike. I didn’t know anything about motorcycles, and no matter how many times locals tried to explain about horsepower, which brand was better, or whatever, I usually just smiled and nodded, not retaining any bit of information they provided.

Archer swung his long legs over the leather seat and started the bike up. It roared loudly, shaking the windows in my car as he revved it up. He looked so at ease, he confident, that I had a hard time taking my eyes off of him. 

Sighing, suddenly exhausted and completely bewildered with how I found myself in this position, I started my car and backed out of the space. Turning onto the highway, I checked my rearview mirror to make sure I hadn’t lost Archer. Even though he had already been to my place, a reminder that had me fuming at Jericho again, I admitted to myself that maybe having a huge biker hanging around wouldn’t be such a bad thing.


	3. Chapter 3

The drive through town to my place didn’t take more than 15 minutes, and Archer was on my tail the whole way. I found myself constantly checking my mirrors, seeing his stone faced expression never wavering. It was actually reassuring. I pulled into the driveway and got out of the car as Archer pulled his bike in alongside my car next to the walkway.

Silently, he followed me to the small porch and waited as I unlocked the front door, his eyes moving over the bushes and down the street. “Go ahead,” I said, trying to get my key out of the sticky lock.

He shook his head, still watching as a car drove slowly past the house. “You first. Always.”

Finally able to get the key free, I lead the way inside, turning to watch as he closed and locked the door behind us. The place was small, I was only renting, and I saw Archer’s bags to the left of the door. We were standing in the living room, a threadbare couch and rocking chair the only options for seating, a small TV on a box was against the wall and two TV trays were used as end tables.

Clearing my throat, I put my purse down on the TV tray closest to me. “It’s not much, but it’s what was available when I came through town.” I didn’t mention that it was all I could afford with the measly savings I had when I bolted. It was probably pretty evident.

His posture changed, relaxed just a little, although his eyes still roved the walls and baseboards like a cat with a laser. I couldn’t get over how _big_ he was. I felt very vulnerable next to him, a feeling I thought I’d never experience again. It was different though, less fearful and more aware. “How do you feel about moving furniture?”

Startled, finding myself staring at his forearms again, I stuttered. “I-what?”

A small smirk crossed his face and he reached up to pull his sunglasses off his forehead, hanging them from the collar of his shirt. “Your couch is right in front of the window. If you are sitting there your ex will have a direct line of sight on you with the lights on. Also, your bedroom is in the front of the house. You need to switch to the guest bedroom. It’s safer, makes it harder for him to see you from the street. Also, if he already knows the layout of the house, which I suspect he does, he won’t realize you aren’t in the room anymore. If he comes in, I’ll be a Hell of a surprise, don’t you think?”

I went from confused, to irritated, to downright livid as he spoke. “I have no problem moving the living room around, but you are seriously deluded if you think I’m moving from the master bedroom, that has a private bathroom, to the smaller bedroom with the bathroom down the hall!”

“Fine, then I’ll just sleep in your room with you.”

His voice was so calm, so deadpan, that at first I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly. My mouth dropped open before I could stop it, but I quickly shut it again. Rage boiled inside of me. “This was a stupid idea.” Turning to dig in my purse for my phone, intent on calling Jericho to ream his ass out and tell him to come get his friend out of my house, I screamed as the window shattered. A large red brick and glass flew at me causing me to throw my hands up to protect my face.

A curse behind me and a hand yanking my arm reminded me of Archer’s presence. Crashing against his large body, he whirled us around and pushed me into the kitchen, away from the windows. His large legs guided mine, arms encircling my body, his torso hovering over my back.

“Are you ok?” he asked, his chin nudging my hair has he spoke.

The whole ordeal was only five seconds, maybe ten at the most. My body was shaking, my eyes screwed shut, and my arms were still cradling my head. “I-I don’t know.”

“Stay here!” he urged, and then he was gone. His warmth left me and I gasped, stumbling against the kitchen counter next to the refrigerator. Finally opening my eyes, I only saw one or two cuts on my forearms, blood dripping down my arms.

Turning, I saw the front door wide open with Archer on my front porch, gazing up and down the street. His body language was tense, observant, and fuming mad. “Is he out there?” I asked, raising my voice slightly so he could hear me.

He looked around once more before coming back inside, locking the door behind him. Archer crossed the distance to my side in just a few long strides. His large hands gently gripped my shoulders as he looked me over. “Are you hurt?”

I shook my head, ducking away from his intense stare. “No, I’m fine. Just a couple of scrapes.”

He ran a hand through his long hair and I looked away, ashamed that small move had me aware of how close he was to me. “Christ, I didn’t expect him to move so soon.”

I bit my lip. “He’s always been the jealous sort.”

Archer raised an eyebrow, but didn’t make an immediate comment. “Do you need help bandaging up?”

I shook my head, probably a little more forcefully that I really needed to. I was already hyper aware of Lance Archer, I didn’t need him touching me gently or playing nursemaid. “I got it.”

“Yeah, and you’ve also got glass in your hair. Careful when you wash it.” Turning to look at the mess that was my living room, he sighed. “You got anything I can used to board up this window?”

Dizzy with the speed in which he went from delicate caretaker to dedicated taskmaker, I nodded weakly. “In the shed out back. Some sheets of plywood the landlord keeps on hand.” Dumbly, I pointed to the backdoor, which was through the kitchen and down the hall past the bedrooms.

Looking down the long hall, he frowned. “I really do not like that door being so close to your room.”

Wheels were turning in Lance Archer’s head, and I wanted no part of it. Without saying a word to him, I escaped down the hall to my bedroom, locking the door behind me. I collapsed on my bed, my face buried in the sheets. What in the Hell was going on in my life? How did I get here?

There was no doubt it was Jake that had thrown that brick, and I knew why he did it. I had brought a man home from the bar. It didn’t matter that Archer was there for my protection, all Jake saw was a strange man in my house. A tall, good looking, dangerous man.

Groaning in frustration, I flipped over onto my back, hissing at the burning scrapes on my arms. Hammering sounded through the house and I sighed. Archer was boarding up the windows and I really needed to get the glass out of my hair. I had to figure out what to do. Could I live with Archer’s ideas of how to protect me? What was the alternative? Jake was watching every move I made. While I knew he was in town and keeping tabs on what I was doing, it wasn’t until that brick flew through the window that I realized what that actually meant.

Jericho’s comment about Jake liking cameras came to mind and I shivered, casting glances around my room. Archer had the knowledge and the ability to protect me. All he needed was a place to stay. I could provide that in exchange for keeping me alive.

Nodding to myself, I capitulated. Yeah, dealing with a hot overbearing biker was a small price to pay.


	4. Chapter 4

Waking up after a night sleeping on fresh sheets was the best feeling in the world. Sighing contentedly, I stretched and opened my eyes. I couldn’t remember the last time I had slept through the night without nightmares or strange sounds jerking me awake. After the events of the previous night, to say I was surprised at my brain’s ability to relax would be an understatement.

I slowly sat up, the stinging in my arms sharper today. I had white gauze bandages circling my forearms, but they weren’t holding up well. It had been a struggle to put them on one handed.

The smell of coffee drifted through the air, reminding me I wasn’t alone in my house. In the corner near the door was the pile of sheets I had switched out after I bled on them. It was stupid of me to flop down last night without cleaning my wounds, but I had needed just a few minutes to myself.

Heaving another sigh, I pulled back the comforter and got out of bed. Changing into a tank and yoga pants, I gathered the sheets and made my way to the kitchen. Archer was moving around, his long hair piled up high on his head in a double bun, wearing a shirt with cut off sleeves and jeans. His feet were bare, and he looked relaxed and easy going, pushing scrambled eggs around in a pan on the stove.

“Morning,” I greeted, dazed by how sexy he looked. He had the ability to make every room his. Archer was large and impressive, dominating every space he was in unapologetically.

“Mornin,” he drawled, his southern accent a little more pronounced than I had noticed before. “Hungry?”

There was a spread on the island. In addition to the eggs, there was bacon, sausage, French toast, and cut up melon. “Are you feeding an army?”

He grinned at me, unrepentant. “I’m a growing boy.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes. “If you grow anymore you won’t fit in my house. We are going to need groceries.” I opened the laundry room and started the washer, throwing the dirty sheets in before closing the lid.

Archer had made each of us up a plate and set it on the two person table next to the window. As I went to sit down, he stopped me with a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Other seat. Next to the wall. You are too exposed there.”

And just like that, reality crashed down around me. Numbly I did as I was told. Placing a cup of coffee, creamer, and sugar, in front of me, Archer took his place across from me. The sun shined through the blinds onto his face and torso, and I saw his eyes scan the street.

Clearing my throat, I stirred sugar into my coffee. “This looks good. Thanks for cooking.”

He shrugged, biting into the eggs. “I like to cook. Haven’t had much occasion to lately.”

“How is this going to work?” I asked the question that had been burning in my mind. “I can’t stay locked up in here. And what is going to happen if Jake shows up? Calling the cops apparently won’t do anything. They don’t believe he is a threat.”

He seemed unbothered by my rapid fire questions, continuing to eat his breakfast. “Tell me more about Jake Hager.”

I grumbled. “What’s to tell? He’s an overbearing, pushy guy who is a control freak with a twitchy trigger finger.”

Archer’s head came up alertly. His eyes locked me into place and I froze, my fork halfway to my mouth. “He has weapons training?”

“Jericho didn’t tell you? He was in the army. He was dishonorably discharged after he attacked his superior. After that, he started teaching training in survivalist camps.”

With a raised eyebrow, he kept eating. “And how did the two of you meet?”

This was not a path I wanted to go down again, but I understood why he was asking. He needed all the information he could get. “Before I moved here, I was a journalist. I wrote for the local paper, and I did a story on doomsdayers. One of the people I interviewed was Jake.”

He nodded, listening to me. “So, he’s skilled with weapons and is trained to be prepared for the worst.” Archer cast another glace at the street before looking at me. “Here’s how this works: you go nowhere alone. I understand its uncomfortable for you, but your safety is more important. I’d rather you were alive to feel uncomfortable than the alternative.”

I shivered at the thought, but didn’t respond.

“We’ll rearrange the living room. If you want to stay in your room, fine, but I’m going to ask you _nicely_ ,” he stressed the word, “to move your bed to the other wall and keep all blinds and curtains in the house closed at all times.”

“You want to confuse him about the layout of the furniture?” I asked, bewildered.

He smirked at me. “I want to confuse him about the location of you. If he thinks you are on the couch in front of the window, that’s where he’s going to take the shot. If he thinks you are sleeping against one wall, but you are on the other, that’s where he’s going to…”

I stopped him with my hand in the air. I could feel my face drain of color. I don’t know why it never occurred to me that Jake would try to kill me. In every scenario that had run through my head, I always thought he’d attack me, and after that, my brain went blank. In all our fights before, he was hands on. Never once did he point a weapon at me. “I got it.”

“Another thing,” he said, picking up his coffee mug. “I promise not to barge in on you, but you need to keep all inner doors unlocked. That means bathroom and bedroom.” He could see the protest welling up in my eyes, and as I opened my mouth, it was his turn to stop me. “Blair, I need to be able to get to you quickly. Putting locked doors between us only slows me down.”

“And what are your qualifications for this protective detail, anyway?” I bit out petulantly. I was annoyed and not afraid to show it.

Leaning back in his chair, he shrugged, the fabric of his shirt catching on his pecs, making my mouth water. “I was in the military. Did a couple of tours and retired early. Went for the police academy before I realized I couldn’t stand having my hands ties due to antiquated laws. So I quit and became a private investigator and protective security for a range of people, including domestic violence victims.”

Quickly I stood up, grabbing my plate and taking it to the sink. “I am _not_ a victim.”

“Really?” he drawled. “And what would you call yourself? You’ve said he was physical with you.”

Keeping my back to him, I shook my head, leaning my hands against the counter. “I don’t call myself anything.”

Archer stood too, reaching over to close the blinds. I guess the show was over. “We’ve stirred up the hornet’s nest, Blair. Hager is watching you, and he knows I’m here. He started out with passive aggressive moves, but he’ll ramp up now. That brick through the window last night proved that.”

Looking down at my forearms, I saw the gauze was loosening more. Archer’s big hand reached past me to put his own plate in the sink. I inhaled deeply, alarmed at how quietly the big man could move. He was right behind me, in my personal space, yet I wasn’t intimidated and I made no move to shift out of his way. Archer hovered, his breath in my hair.

“Let me help you with those bandages and then we can get to work on the house.”

A shiver went down my spine and I closed my eyes against the boil of emotions running through me. I was scared, there was no doubt about it. But I was angry too. Angry that Jake couldn’t just leave me alone. And under all of that was the undeniable attraction to my protector that I just couldn’t shake. Lance Archer was hot, sexy, strong, and determined. Not to mention capable, apparently. His ideas about rearranging the furniture was simple, yet it made sense. It was a small measure of added safety and time if needed. I couldn’t afford a tryst with the guy hired to protect me. It was stupid and selfish.

Turning, I came face to face with Archer. His body heat should have felt suffocating to me, it always overwhelmed me when Jake would get too close, but instead, I felt reinforced, as if I could face anything and make it through to the other side.

Offering up my forearms to him, he gave me a quick smile and encircled my wrists with his hands. “Come on.”

Without another word, one of my wrists still in his, he led me down the hall and into my bedroom. Pointing at my bed, he went into my bathroom where I lost sight of him. I sat down on my bed, listening to him rummage around under the sink.

“Should it alarm me that you know your way through my house?” I asked, unwrapping the gauze from my left arm.

I heard him chuckle. “Be mad at Jericho all you want, but I had to get in here to make sure it was safe for you. That meant going through closets, looking under beds, behind bookshelves, and in drawers.”

My back straightened. “Drawers? You went through my dresser?”

The cabinet door closed and Archer appeared with a roll of gauze and Neosporin. Crouching down in front of me, he took my right arm in his hand and took the bandage off. I saw a small smile appear on his face and I held myself still, afraid of what he was going to say.

“I found a bug in the living room and in your nightstand. No cameras though. I did find something interesting in your underwear drawer though.”

My face flamed and I tried to tug my arms out of his hands, but he wasn’t having that.

“Keep still. Every woman has thongs, Blair. Jeez.”

The breath I had been holding flowed out of me in relief, until I saw the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. Yanking away from him, I slapped at his shoulders. “You creep!”

Laughing, a deep sound that emanated from his chest and bounced against the walls, Archer put his arm on my legs to hold me in place while snatching my hands out of the air. “You won’t need that toy anymore, Blair. I can be a full service guard.”

Exasperated with him, but not actually angry, I rolled my eyes and stopped fighting him. Before I could stop myself, I tossed my hair and gave him a smug expression. “Oh, you only found one, did you?”

His eyes flicked up to mine. He squeezed a bit of Neosporin on both cuts and bent his head to wrapping my arms. “Oh, I saw your arsenal. But that little pink thing piqued my curiosity.”

Biting my lip, I watched how delicately he touched me. It was a different vantage point, looking down on him. Archer’s size was usually the first thing I thought of when I saw him. He was always looming, intentional or not. But now I could see the shine in his hair, the sharpness of his hazel eyes, the strength of his shoulders.

“All done,” he announced, standing quickly. Startled by the movement, I had to brace myself against the bed to keep my balance. I chided myself. I couldn’t keep getting lost in Lance Archer.

I stood, watching Archer move to the bathroom to throw away the old gauze. “I’ll switch the laundry and then I’ll help move the furniture.”

Turning, he grinned and leaned against the doorframe. “I imagine we’ll be moving furniture for a long time.”

I rolled my eyes at his euphemism and left the room. It was too warm in there anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

My back screaming at me, I straightened up from placing my side of the bed in it’s new position. Archer was already upright, a small sheen of sweat on his brow. That made me feel a little better, knowing all this work was getting to him too. The living room was done, everything moved and rearranged. Now we were in my bedroom, shifting things around.

Huffing, my hands on my hips, I squinted across the bed frame at Archer. “Why is my room the only one getting adjusted? You say he’s been in the house. That means he knows where your bed is too.”

That look of amusement crossed his face again when he looked at me. I couldn’t tell if he thought I was funny or stupid. Immediately, I mentally took that back. He didn’t think I was dumb. Archer was pretty straight forward with me, explained everything in detail and with thought. He wouldn’t do that if he questioned my intellect.

“I moved everything in my room last night. It didn’t take long. And, if he thinks we’re a couple, he’ll probably think I’m in here with you.”

My heart stopped and then stuttered back into rhythm. “What?”

He moved across the room in just a few steps, his long legs eating the distance easily. Gripping the boxspring, he gave me a pointed look until I remembered to tell my feet to move. Together we put it on top of the bed frame, then moved to the mattress. “You said it yourself last night. Hager has a jealous streak. He sees a guy staying here and not leaving the next morning? Of course he’s going to come to the conclusion we’re sleeping together. Which, you know,” he grinned at me, “we could be but you told me no.”

I rolled my eyes. We lifted the mattress and set it on top of the boxspring. “There is a reason I have toys, Archer. I can satisfy myself all on my own.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, but why should you have to when I’m right here?”

I found myself smiling back at him. He was charming me, and I didn’t feel like resisting. “So what’s the plan then? Let him think we’re together?”

He shrugged, tossing the pillows at me. Since the sheets were clean, I had left them on the mattress. I caught the pillows and placed them on the bed. “I don’t care what he thinks.”

A dark cloud seemed to loom over my head suddenly. Looking across the bed at Archer, I felt my heart constrict. “What’s the end game here? We mentioned it earlier. Going to the cops is out. It’s too late for that.”

Archer sighed, the first hesitation I’d ever seen from him. “Look, Blair, you need to start wrapping your brain around this. Everybody dies. In this case, Hager’s time is coming just a little bit sooner than he expects.”

My world stopped and my ears began to ring. As my vision began to get hazy, I watched Archer curse and dart around the end of the bed, just as my knees buckled. I caught myself, one hand bracing me against the bed and the other halting Archer as he reached me. My hand was pressed firmly against his chest, and I felt his heart pounding against my skin.

“Christ! Are you ok?” he asked. He stood there, his expression concerned and a little dumbfounded.

It was enough to make me want to laugh, but my head was still swimming. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Are you saying you are here to kill Jake?”

Archer looked frustration, split between wanting to protect me, this time from myself, and his code of honesty. “Don’t make me say it outloud, Blair.”

Removing my hand from his chest, I looked up at him. “Yes or no. That’s all I need.”

Archer grunted, running his hand over his forehead and tugging on his hair. It had started falling down as we moved furniture through the house, but he didn’t seem concerned with his appearance. “It’s not that simple! I’m not actively going out searching for him. If he shows up, I’ll kick his ass and detain him. Unless things get out of hand,” he trailed off.

I caught the memo. “This could go on for a long time, right?” I was slowly realizing I had been living in denial for months. I never imagined Jake would follow across the United States, and when he did, it didn’t occur to me that he would try to kill me. And now, finally understanding that Archer and I could be living together for a long time while Jake planned his next step made me feel paralyzed. “I hate not knowing what he’s doing.”

Archer’s large hand rested on my head, a soft and affectionate gesture that made me crack a small amused smile. Looking up at him, I saw that he too was smirking. It was the smirk I was quickly realizing was his charming weapon of choice.

“I know what he’s doing, just not where.”

That was sobering. Sighing, I stood up and Archer’s hand fell off my head. “I’ll finish up in here. Thanks for your help.”

He nodded, making his way to the door. “You mentioned going to the store earlier. We should probably do that but we need a game plan first.”

With those parting words, Archer left my room, leaving me wondering exactly what kind of game plan we would need for buying eggs.


	6. Chapter 6

The game plan ended up being Archer plastered to my side as we left the house, his arm over my shoulders as if we were a causal couple. He opened the car door for me again, this time the passenger side, and he drove us to the store. Once we arrived, he sternly told me not to move, and he rounded the car to shield me as I exited, and he once again draped his heavy arm around my shoulders.

Once inside, he backed off only a few steps, refusing to push the cart in case someone ran up on us, allowing me to navigate the aisles and man the list. Occasionally, he would toss something in the cart, but his eyes were roving the store, his focus never on one person or place for long. Archer’s demeanor was calm, attentive in a distracted sort of way, and easygoing. It left me feeling very relieved that we were not a real couple, because I would have been super annoyed having him pretend to be paying attention to me.

And on the other hand, I was already annoyed because he was so damn good looking, that I just wanted to climb him like a tree to kiss his beautiful lips and _make_ him pay attention to me. Archer flustered me, just by being himself. He had a great sense of humor when he wasn’t in work mode, and his ability to flirt at the drop of a hat kept me on my toes to respond in kind. It was like a fun game, and a great distraction.

Standing in the middle of the store, I looked at the very full basket of groceries and swallowed hard. “We may need to take some things out. I don’t have enough money for all this, Archer.”

He was standing at the end of the basket, his hand on the wire with his back to me. “Don’t worry about it, I got it. Come on. We need to go.” Archer pulled at the basket, and I dutifully followed him to the registers, my mind spinning at his words. How did he make money? I obviously wasn't paying him, and his retirement from the military couldn't be a lot.

Working at Fozzy’s was great, but Jericho paid me under the table to keep me off the books. It meant less pay, and I had to rely on tips to make rent. I lived sparsely. I frequented thrift shops for clothes, and a few times I had to go to the local food bank. Jericho was stressed out about my living arrangements, but I wasn’t bothered most days. Absolutely it was different from how I used to live, but if it kept me on the down low, I’d do whatever it took to stay off the radar.

As I put the groceries on the conveyor belt in the check out line, I watched Archer’s head swivel above the racks of magazines and candy. A burst of laughter escaped and I grinned at him. “You look like a meercat.”

He smiled but didn’t look at me. His hair was down, combed and in a long ponytail. He was wearing a white V-Neck t-shirt with blue jeans and his signature bandana on his forehead. He looked delicious. “Do me a favor and as the lady to move faster, please.”

A shock ran through my body, and I immediately began to try to peek over the shelves.

“Don’t,” he ground out between his teeth, an apparent smile still on his face.

It was then that I understood what he was trying to tell me. Act casual, move faster. I whispered to the woman checking us out that we were late for a bar-b-que, and she smiled and began scanning items faster. I kept my head down, an eye on Archer monitoring his body language. He still seemed relaxed, casually looking around as if he was bored, picking items off the shelf and them putting them back as if reading the labels. But I was catching on to his mannerisms. He had seen something that caught his attention.

Every beep of the register notched my anxiety up higher and higher until I was strung tighter than a bow and ready to snap. By the time Archer moved me to the side to pay the bill, his hands ghosting my hips and making me blush, I was ready to either scream or cry. It was all I could do to keep my eyes on what we were doing, loading the bags into the cart and smiling as if nothing was wrong.

Once again, Archer tucked me under his shoulder, close to his body as he shielded me. Leaving the check out counter, he leaned down to whisper in my ear. “To the left, past me, next to the customer service desk. Black hat, looking at lotto tickets.”

Minutely we slowed our steps together as we approached the automatic sliding doors that lead to comparable safety. I peered past Archer’s chest, trying to keep myself hidden but wanting to get a good look at the man Archer had spotted.

I let go of the breath I was holding and peered up at him as we passed through the doors. “It’s not him. He’s too short and skinny.”

Archer nodded, but didn’t move from his position beside me. “Get in the car. I’ll put the groceries in the trunk.”

I didn’t argue with him, although if it would have been a normal day, I would have kicked his shins and told him to stop telling me what to do. I was shaken. Even though it turned out not to be Jake in the store, with Archer on the lookout, I realized I was going to feel exposed and vulnerable everytime I left the house. I was hyper aware now, which only led me to being more paranoid.

When we arrived at the house, Archer went inside with me to check to make sure it was clear. He left me in the kitchen putting groceries away as he brought the rest of the bags in.

As he closed the door behind him after the last trip to the car, he sighed. “It will get to be more routine. It will be second nature, Blair.”

I knew what he was saying. Shaking my head, I closed the fridge and leaned against the counter, my arms crossed. “I don’t want it to be second nature, Archer. This isn’t normal. Looking over my shoulder when I leave the house? Checking under my bed every night? Driving ten minutes the wrong way in case I’m being followed? This is not normal!”

He stood there in the kitchen, filling the space, his expression blank as stone. “It’s going to be. Until this ends, until he’s either six feet under or in a jail cell, this is your life. And we’ve only just begun. We haven’t talked about Fozzy’s yet.”

I waved him off, annoyed. “That’s tomorrow. We’re dealing with today right now.”

Archer snorted, shifting on his feet, clearly annoyed. “And that’s the kind of thinking that got you in this position, Blair.”

My mouth dropped open and I stared at him. Less than an hour ago I was imagining him pinning me against a wall and devouring me, but now I felt insulted and ready to claw his eyes out. “What in the Hell does that mean?”

He was stock still, peering at me with those emerald eyes that warmed the pit of my stomach anytime they glanced my way. “Think long term. Have a Plan A, B, C, D,” he waved his hand to indicate he could go on. “You are risking your pretty little neck by just floating through life.”

My brain stuttered on “pretty little neck” but I forced myself to focus. “That’s obvious, Einstein!”

Snorting, he turned to move into the living room, plopping on the couch. “If it was, you’d be doing it. You wouldn’t still be here.”

I followed him, anger at feeling helpless and misunderstood boiling in my veins. “And do you think I just picked this town on a map and settled down here, Archer? You think I left Jake and ran to Fozzy’s?” My voice was getting higher and higher. I was standing over him, my hands on my hips, trying to resist clawing his eyes out. 

He peered up at me looking completely unbothered. “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t presume to know what rattles around in that brain of yours.”

A scream of rage erupted from my throat and I kicked his leg. He grunted and reached down to rub his calf. “You are infuriating! I’ve been running from that asshole for months! I’m exhausted, terrified, and over the whole situation! I’m really close to being to the point of just letting whatever happens, happen, because I am stressed out and pissed off!”

I whirled around on my feet and stomped off to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. As an extra added “fuck you” to Archer, I locked the door.


	7. Chapter 7

Out of sheer boredom, I spent the next few hours rearranging my closet. It wasn’t very big, and I didn’t own a lot of stuff, but going through the boxes and taking a trip down memory lane relaxed me. Seeing pictures of my mom holding me when I was little brought a smile to my face. I missed her. She had died of breast cancer when I was nineteen. My father had never been in the picture, so I was used to going through life solo. I was selfish in a lot of ways, as it had been a long time since I’d had anyone to think about other than myself. Even when I was with Jake, every day felt like I was struggling to stay above water. He’d leave for days at a time, training in some mock scenario in the desert, demanding I stay at home while he was gone “to be safe”.

At first, I listened, wanting his focus to be on his training so he could come home safely. After that, I wanted to hang out with my friends, go to dinner or a movie with my co-workers, and so I would. And then I’d get angry phone calls or text messages asking me where I was, why I wasn’t at home. It took me longer than I cared to admit to realize he had cameras in the house and was using the digital lock on our front door to log my comings and goings.

Sighing, I pulled a picture of Jake and I out of an old shoe box. It was the last one I had, all others I had burned. But this one I kept. It had been our third date and we were at a friend’s party. A bunch of us were laughing and drinking around the campfire and someone had a camera. Jake had thrown his arm around my shoulder, kissed my cheek causing me to smile, and asked for a picture.

I had hearts in my eyes, looking at him. I had thought he was charming and handsome. But his possessiveness had gotten the better of him, spoiling everything. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen him smile. He had spent his free time online in survivalists chat rooms and cleaning his guns, demanding I stay at home and cook or clean. Jake called my employer and quit my job on my behalf, and gave me a black eye when I protested. He tried to teach me how to sew, which at first I thought was a good idea, but when I couldn’t do more than hem pants or sew on a button, he ripped up every attempt I made in a fit of anger. We spent time canning food and storing it, and it was at that point I realized he had gone off the deep end. Sure, canning food was a great idea, but at the mention of eating it he’d come unglued and slap me across my face, screaming that we were never going to be prepared at the rate we were going.

Prepared for what, I didn’t know.

Flipping the picture in my hand over, I saw a handwritten note from Jake. _Always mine. Never forget that. Love you._

Sighing, I stood up and made my way to the living room where Archer was. He sat on the couch watching a baseball game with a bowl of popcorn. Plopping down on the opposite end, I handed him the picture.

“Here. This should give you a better idea of what he looks like, other than what Jericho told you.”

He muted the game and took the picture from me, his eyebrow raised as he looked at it. “Good looking guy,” he drawled.

I shrugged. “He once was the most handsome guy I’d ever met. I don’t see him like that anymore though.” I tucked my legs underneath me and laid the side of my face against the couch, watching Archer analyze the picture that held so many memories.

“No? Why not?” he asked, flipping the picture over and grunting at the words on the back.

I bit my lip and picked at a strand of fabric on the couch. “People’s actions color your view of them.”

Archer was silent for a moment, and then put the picture on the arm of the couch before unmuting the tv. “Want to watch the game with me?” he asked.

Lifting my head, I saw he wasn’t looking at me, his focus entirely on the game. For some reason, the fact that he didn’t pry warmed my insides a bit. If it would have been me, I would have dug for details until I annoyed the ever living hell out of the person. Archer didn’t mention our fight earlier, or my tantrum. He showed a lot of patience and restraint, which only served to make me feel more secure around him.

As I settled more comfortably on the couch, I found myself relaxing and enjoying the comradery as we cheered opposing teams, playfully bantering with each run and strike out. It felt nice, like the beginning of a friendship where you feel each other out before you show your true weirdness. It was an emotion I had forgotten, having to abandon all my friends when I fled Jake.

I allowed myself to enjoy to moment in time with no worries, knowing tomorrow would come when the daylight would shine again and expose me once again.


	8. Chapter 8

The next day began the start of my new normal. I slept in, knowing I was working that night and deciding I could use the rest. Close to noon, Archer pounded at my bedroom door, demanding to know if I was alive or not.

Rolling my eyes, I called to him to shut up and slowly climbed out of bed, stumbling to the shower. I was quick, it didn’t take me long, and I stepped back into my bedroom with a towel wrapped around my body, my wet hair dripping down my shoulders and back.

It took me a moment to figure out what I was seeing. Across from the bathroom door was the only window in the room. Since Archer had made his suggestion about all the windows in the house, the blinds and curtains had been drawn, not letting any natural light in the house. Now, the bottom of the blinds were broken, as if something had been caught in them, and left side of the curtain was moved.

My heart began to pound in my chest. I knew it wasn’t like that before I went into the bathroom. My eyes roved the room, checking to see if anything was out of place. I couldn’t see under my bed, and I didn’t want to risk getting down to the floor to look.

I steeled myself, and then in a mad dash, I ran to the bedroom door, flinging it open and running down the hall. “Lance!” I yelled.

He stepped into my way from the kitchen and we crashed together. His hands braced my shoulders and he held me to his broad chest. “Blair, what’s wrong?”

I was out of breath, mostly from panic rather than the short run down the hallway. “My curtains are messed up!”

Without a word, no questions, no doubt, he set me to the side and pulled a 9mm from the back of his jeans. Shock filled my body as I watched him lay flat against the wall and pace himself down to my bedroom. How long had he been carrying a gun? Why didn’t I know about it? It looked like the gun was an extension of his arm, and with practiced ease he peeked into my bedroom once, and then moved in, out of my eyesight.

I stood stock still, clutching the towel in my hands with a death grip. I could feel my body shaking, the A/C blowing on my wet skin, and I told myself I was just cold and not terrified. Straining to hear a sound, I jumped when Archer shouted my name, giving me the all clear.

Taking a deep breath I slowly made my way back to my bedroom, finding Archer in front of the window, analyzing the curtains and blinds.

“It wasn’t like that before I went to take a shower,” I whispered. I was still afraid he wouldn’t believe me.

He nodded and I saw him tuck the gun in his waistband at his back and then flip his black t-shirt over it. “Anything out of place?” he asked, looking at me over his shoulder before crouching down and peering at the window from another angle.

I again looked around the room. “Not at first glance.” Everything in my body begged me not to step foot in my room, but I forced myself. It was my space, and I refused to be afraid. Crossing the floor to my dresser, I pulled open my underwear drawer, intent on getting some clothes on now that the alarm was over.

I screamed, slamming the drawer shut again and all but threw myself into Archer’s arms as he rounded the bed. A sob bubbled in my throat and I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping his shirt in my hands.

“Blair? What’s wrong?” Tucking me under one arm, he reached forward and opened the top dresser drawer, finding red lily petals covering my clothes. He stared at it for a moment and then slammed it shut much like I had. Cursing, he wrapped his arms around me as I trembled. “What is this guy’s fascination with red flowers?”

Archer’s tone was rhetorical but I answered him anyway, one arm around his waist taking comfort in his closeness. “Red lilies were my favorite. They represent love and passion.”

Archer snorted. “He’s twisted.”

Jake Hager was twisted, yes. One could translate the act of climbing through my window and scattering petals over my underwear a million different ways, but I knew him. I knew what he was saying. Ripping the delicate flower to pieces was a message in itself, killing the plant, killing me. Putting them on top of my underclothes? I was vulnerable.

And I very much felt that way, even with Archer in the house. Sure, I felt _safer_ , but not completely secure. And now I physically saw the evidence that Jake had gotten into the house and out without anyone seeing him. What stopped him from attacking me while I was in the shower?

Archer gave me a squeeze and pulled back. “Grab some clothes and get dressed. I’ll clean up in here, ok?”

I nodded, sending the offending dresser drawer a tentative look. I didn’t want to see what was in there.

Archer smirked, and taking a step backwards, opened the drawer without looking, his eyes on mine. I was locked into place, using him to anchor me, and out of my peripheral vision I saw him pull out a thong. Dangling it off his forefinger, he shut the drawer and handed them to me.

Letting them hang in the air between us, I refused to blink, intent on winning the staring contest. My heart beat like a drum in my chest and wetness dampened my thighs. How I could be hot for Archer in that moment baffled me, but I welcomed the emotion. I didn’t want to be scared anymore, and he was teasing me to distract me.

Lightly biting my lip, I saw his eyes catch the movement and I dropped my towel, standing naked in front of him for a split. His eyes scanned my body, unabashedly enjoying the view. Refusing to allow the giggle I held in chest out, I delicately picked the thong off of his finger and walked around him, keeping eye contact until the last second.

Pulling a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from the bottom dresser drawers, I almost skipped to the bathroom.

“You forgot a bra.”

I turned, seeing that Archer hadn’t moved. He was stock still, his finger still held out in the same spot.

Smiling knowing he couldn’t see me, I replied, “Hm, I figured I wouldn’t wear one tonight.” And I closed the door.


	9. Chapter 9

Archer sat at the end of the bar, eating peanuts out of a bowl and nursing a beer. His gaze constantly moved around the room, taking everything and everyone in. It was a busy Friday night, and as soon as I clocked in I was on the run. Fozzy’s was a popular spot through the week, but it got crazy during the weekend.

I welcomed the distraction. From one drink order to the next, I thought of nothing else but the buzz going on around me, the music in my ears, and the customers laughing and drinking. Santana and Ortiz were playing darts near the stage and Sammy was again on table duty, wiping them down as fast as something was spilled. Jericho was in his office going over payroll, so I was left manning the bar on my own.

Before we left the house, Archer had fixed my window, finding out the latch was broken, and cleaned up the flower petals. I was thankful that he didn’t seem to mind clean up duty. I couldn’t face it, and he seemed content enough to clear it all away so that I wouldn’t be reminded.

The broken blinds were still an issue, one that would require a trip to the hardware store to fix. I suggested he use the time while I was at work to get what he needed, but after a savage stare down, I relented. He wasn’t going to leave me for a minute. I thought it was ridiculous. Being in public was more dangerous, even with him, than leaving me at work for eight hours, but he wouldn’t budge.

The front door opened and closed repeatedly, so I was unsure of what caused me to look up at that moment. I found Sammy with a big grin on his face, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying as he passed through the crowd, heading towards the bar. In his hands was one of the largest red lily flower arrangements I had ever seen. My ears were ringing, drowning down the sound of music and laughter, as I watched horrified.

Archer’s head came up and found Sammy just as he crossed in front of him. In one smooth motion, Archer was on his feet, his hand gripped the back of Sammy’s shirt as he picked him up off the floor. On any other occasion, the sight of a terrified Sammy with his legs kicking in the air would have been hysterical, but all I could see was red.

I watched Archer’s mouth move but the bar was too loud for me to hear what he was saying. His expression was urgent, pissed off, and he brought Sammy’s struggling body closer to his as he interrogated him.

“Hey honey! Where’s that beer?”

I turned to see a group of angry customers at the bar and I gave them an apologetic smile, scrambling to fulfill their orders. “I’m sorry! Coming right up!”

Quickly serving them, I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned. Archer was behind me, his expression serious. Leaning down to my ear, he said the words I knew were coming.

“They were delivered here for you. The card said _“I’m sorry, please come home.”_ I had Sammy toss them in the dumpster out back.”

His warm breath stole down my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Unconsciously I shifted closer to him, and I hoped it appeared as if I was trying to hear him better. I nodded at him to let him know I understood and then turned to keep working the bar without responding.

Archer moved back to his spot at the end, but he didn’t sit. He loomed there like a great statue, intimidating and fierce. I felt more protected in that moment than ever before. He watched me, watched the crowd, shifted impatiently as men flirted with me and grumbled when one or two tried to grope my ass as I walked past their tables. Even when a fight broke out, he didn’t budge, allowing Santana and Ortiz to handle the situation. I didn’t respond to any of it. I felt as if I was on autopilot, just waiting for the next incident.

As the night ended and customers began to file out the door, Jericho finally appeared to help clean up. Sammy and I tackled the floors and he worked behind the bar, speaking in low tones to Archer.

“Hey, Bel-air, I’m sorry about the flowers. I didn’t realize…”

Looking up at Sammy who had a blush on his cheeks and a shameful expression, I patted his shoulder. “It’s fine. They are just flowers but they creep me out.”

He leaned on the handle of the broom, tilting his head. “Most girls like flowers though. I mean, I get my girl flowers and she’s on me before I can even take a breath.”

I bit back my grin at his bafflement. Sammy was as good kid, young man really, but a little bit too innocent for what was going on around me. “It’s a long story, and I don’t think I could explain it right anyway. Suffice it to say, I like flowers, just not those.”

He left it alone, which I was thankful for. We finished quickly and Archer raised an eyebrow at me. I nodded, it was time to leave. We were getting to the point were our conversations were silent, and that comforted me.

Together we left, Archer shielding me using his body as we rounded the building to my car. Passing Ortiz’s car, I gasped, stopping dead in my tracks.

All four tires were slashed.

Groaning, I backed up until I was against Fozzy’s and leaned my head against the concrete. “I hate him. I hate him _so_ much!”

Archer stood in front of me, scanning the parking lot. “We’ll take my bike home. I’ll figure out the car situation later.”

Without another word he wrapped his arm around my back and escorted me to his bike that was parked next to my car. Climbing on behind him, I pressed my body close to his, a blush stealing over my cheeks when I felt my bare nipples pebble. The night had been so busy I had completely forgotten about the braless situation, and now was not the time to tease Archer as I had planned earlier in the evening.

Instead, I buried my face against his back, keeping my eyes away from my car as he started the bike up and pulled out of the parking lot. The rumble of the bike between my legs coupled with the heat of Archer’s body pushed all fear from my mind, filling it only with Lance Archer.

Readjusting my arms around his waist, I took a deep breath and let it out, trying for just one moment to enjoy the night and the wind blowing through my hair. I found I wasn’t mad about the tires. It felt like just another day. Just another occurrence. Mind numbness spread and I struggled to not let it overtake me. I couldn’t become complacent.

Stopping at a red light, Archer’s hand reached down to pat my thigh, and then grip it. “You ok?” he asked over the rumble of the engine.

I nodded my head. What was I going to say? I’m falling for you while I’m in danger? You make me feel safe? I’m used to it? I winced as that one flited across my mind. Even behind the mind numbness, there was a swirl of emotions I was trying to ignore. Falling for your protector was the dumbest thing you could do in a situation like this one, I knew that.

The light turned green and we were off again. Even with only knowing Archer three days, fighting with him, arguing a lot, I knew he had my back. He was crass and inappropriate at times, but I never felt scared of him. If anything, it only endeared me to him more. It was a dangerous road I was walking, but it seemed I couldn’t stop myself.

Arriving at my house shortly thereafter, I almost scrambled off the bike and up to the front door. Hearing Archer’s protests behind me I ignored him.I unlocked the door and stopped dead in my tracks as I flicked on the lights. There on the kitchen peninsula, were the flowers Lance had thrown in the dumpster. The petals were bruised, the clear vase cracked and chipped in places, and the card was crumpled in the plastic holder.

And against the vase stood the picture of Jake and I that I had given Archer the night before. A scream of rage bellowed out of my lungs and I stomped across the floor to snatch the vase and picture up. Returning to the front door just as Archer appeared, his face cold and ready for battle at my yell, I pushed past him to throw the flowers and vase out into the yard. With a satisfaction I felt deep inside I watched as they shattered with a delicious sound.

“FUCK YOU JAKE HAGER!” I bellowed, ripping up the last picture I had of him into tiny pieces. “I’m over this goddamn game! You want me? Come fucking get me you sick son of a bitch!” With a flourish I tossed the pieces into the air and whirled around on the ball of my foot, pushing Archer back inside with a hand on his chest, slamming the door behind me.

I was panting, my body flushed, and Archer’s eyebrow was almost reaching his hairline. “That feel good?”

I huffed. “That asshole got on my last nerve.”

His lips twitched as he watched me like a wounded animal. “I see that. Are you done? Because that little temper tantrum…”

I held up my hand. “I know what I just did. I threw down the gauntlet. I dared him. I all but threw his gifts in his face. I know. What I don’t know is why you are standing over there and not kissing me senseless.”

In a split second, Archer’s expression changed. He went from concerned but mildly amused to serious faster than I could blink. “What did you say?”

It was an impulse thought, one that came out of my mouth before I could censor it, but there it was, in the open. “You heard me.”

Archer stared at me for so long, I began to get antsy. Finally, he shook his head slowly and gave an exasperated chuckle. “I’m not going to kiss you, Blair. Not until you beg for it.”

My mouth dropped open. “What? Why?”

Turning away from me he entered the kitchen and pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. “Because I have to know you really want it and not because you are having an adrenaline rush or you’re pissed off or because the idea of me watching your back turns you on.”

I bit my lip. “What if it’s all those things, all the time?”

Glancing at me, his eyes belied his words. “Then you’ll wait until we’re clear of this situation.”

Frustrated I plopped down on the couch, my arms crossed over my chest, pouting. I wasn’t shameful about it either. But maybe I had read him wrong. It was possible that his teasing was just his way of relaxing me, and that it didn’t really mean anything at all.

Lance sat down beside me, our thighs touching. Resting the beer bottle on his jean clad knee, he sighed. “This whole scenario is emotionally charged. I’d hate for you to regret anything we did together.”

Well, I thought, that was vague. And yet, I knew what he meant. “Sorry,” I grumbled. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

He laughed, hooking his arm around my neck and tugging me against his side. “Baby, I’m always uncomfortable around you.” He squirmed and my eyes zeroed in on the bulge in his jeans. Suddenly, I had hope again. Maybe he really did want me like I wanted him. “But I take this seriously. Your safety is my first priority.”

Not willing to let go of my bad attitude, I snuggled closer to him absorbing his warmth. “All I wanted was a kiss.”

I heard his laughter in his chest. “No, you wanted me to kiss you senseless. And trust me, once I got started, I wasn’t going to be able to stop.”

I blushed, burying my face against his shirt, feeling foolish. He was right, of course. We’d only known each other a few days and starting a fling or relationship when you are scared out of your mind daily was probably not the best idea.

Dropping a kiss to my forehead that I felt all the way to my toes, Lance let me go and got up off the couch. “You distracted me. I need to go figure out how he got into the house.”

Reality had a way of slapping me in the face so hard it knocked all my daydreams right out of my head. Watching Archer walk off, beer in hand, I had to take a good hard look at what was going on. If I actually slept with him, actually cared for him more than I already did, I had no doubt his life would be in danger. Even under the pretense of being in a relationship now, I knew Jake didn’t really buy it. It’s why he was still wooing me in his disturbed way.

And while I had complete faith in Archer’s abilities to keep me safe, I doubted he’d ever think of his own well-being. That was something I just couldn’t stand. I was used to being the focus of Jake’s wrath, to put someone else I cared about in his path was abhorrent to me.

Everything was getting riskier. Jake had kept his distance, terrorizing me with messages and notes and following me around town. But now, he was getting bolder, entering the house multiple times even when we were there. I knew, in the back of my mind, what the next progression would be, but I just couldn’t imagine it.

When was the other shoe going to drop?


	10. Chapter 10

Archer and I strolled through the hardware store’s aisles side by side the next day before my shift at Fozzy’s. Jericho was supposed to send me a text telling me what time he needed me, but I hadn’t heard from him yet. I was pushing the cart again while Lance browsed the shelves. Watching him pick out new deadbolt locks, I wondered what he was like when he wasn’t on guard duty. I had gotten glimpses of his personality, but I wanted to know more.

“Hey Archer, why were you looking for a place to stay?” I leaned against the cart and rolled it back and forth out of boredom. The hardware store was not my cup of tea.

Fiddling with a deadbolt, he crouched down to scan the lower shelves. “Got into a fight with my landlord.”

Raising my eyebrow at his succinct words, I pushed a little harder. “Really? What about?”

He was wearing a black baseball cap, his long hair tied at his neck. Tugging the bill down lower over his eyes, he kept picking up different items and then putting them back. He was nervous about something. “Something stupid. Long story short, we disagreed and he gave me an eviction notice.”

Frowning, I glanced down to the end of the aisle when I noticed someone near. It was a middle aged lady, so I immediately dismissed her presence. “So, you are going to continue to be a man of mystery then, huh? Fine. Keep your secrets.”

Standing, he placed two deadbolts in the cart and looked at me. “I’m an open book.”

Snorting, I rolled my eyes and began pushing the cart. “Hardly.”

“Ask me anything,” he replied, smirking as he kept pace with me.

Heading towards the blinds section, I thought about what I wanted to know about my guard dog. I wasn’t happy with the answer he gave me earlier. “I want to know why your landlord evicted you.”

Stopping in the middle of the aisle, he turned to look at me. He must have realized I wasn’t going to drop it, because he sighed and readjusted his hat. “Look, he beat his girlfriend. She knew what I do for a living and she asked me for help. When I tried to help her move out and into another place, he came home and we got into a fight. Suffice it to say, she’s safe, and he’s in jail with a broken arm.”

Tilting my head a little, I observed him. For some reason the confession seemed to make him uncomfortable. “So you are a knight in shining armor?” I nodded to myself. “Yeah, that fits.” I began to move away, pushing the cart in front of me, but his hand on my arm stopped me.

“What does that mean?”

Shrugging, I scanned our surroundings. Apparently being around Archer had influenced my social behavior. Rarely did a person walk past me that I didn’t register their looks and their demeanor. “You seem like you like saving people.”

For some reason, his expression clouded over and he stomped off. I wasn’t sure what I said that could have offended him, so I just followed along behind and kept my mouth shut as he found an employee to help with the blinds.

Archer tried to be tough, and maybe he was, but deep down he was a marshmallow. It said a lot to me that he looked out for other people, and even though he brushed it off saying it was his job, he wasn’t being paid to protect me. The situation worked out for the both of us, but obviously I wasn’t paying him, which mean he was losing money to keep me safe. From what Jericho had explained, he could have been guarding celebrities or high profile clients. Instead, he was protecting a bartender in a dusty small town running from her psychotic ex-fiancé.

Everything he did, right down to choosing deadbolts and blinds, he did with precision and intent. He mesmerized me, entranced me, and it was humbling and a little bit humiliating to realize I was falling for him faster than I could help, while he was doing his job as professionally as he could.

Sighing, I pulled my gaze from his backside and looked down at my phone to see if Jericho answered my text about what time I needed to go to work that night. Instead, there was a text from an unknown number.

**Burn Baby Burn**

Furrowing my eyebrows, I stared at the message, trying to figure out what it meant and who it was from.

“You ok?” Archer asked, stepping to my side.

I lifted a shoulder in a half shrug and showed him my phone. “This is weird.”

He seemed to agree, but didn’t make a comment. He looked around, placing the bundled up blinds in the cart. “I think we’ve been out and about long enough. Let’s get out of here.”

Something had shifted in his body language. While he had been observant before, now he seemed alert as if he expected Jake to jump from the ceiling into the shopping cart. Checking out went quickly, and the ride back to my house, on four brand new tires, was spent in silence. I felt tension radiating off of Archer like a heat wave, and I couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong. Awkwardly squirming in the passenger seat, I gazed out the window as he slowed to a stop at a red light. Sirens blared in the distance, and we both watched as two fire trucks and an ambulance roared through the intersection.

Archer’s brow was furrowed, and he flicked on the signal and looked over his shoulder as he eased the car into the turn lane before following the fire trucks.

“What are you doing? This isn’t the right street, you have to go down one more block.” Archer knew how to get to my house. He was the type of man that knew every route to take and every back alley. I was confused as to why he was purposefully going the wrong way.

“Do you see that cloud of smoke, Blair?” he asked, bending his head down to peer out the windshield as if he could direct my gaze with that motion. “It’s awfully close to your house. I want to see where the emergency is.”

I did see the smoke billowing up in the air. It was a large fire, wherever it was, with the dark cloud blocking out the mid-afternoon sun. I glanced at Archer next to me, his lips set in a rigid line as he stepped on the gas pedal, speeding after the blaring sirens.

A knot was forming in my stomach, one of dread. Without thinking, I reached for Lance’s hand, surprised when he actually allowed me to take it. He didn’t look at me, concentrating on the traffic in front of him. I rested our folded hands on my thigh, finding comfort in his strength. The smoke was drifting through my neighborhood, and Lance took a left and then a right, bringing us to my street.

Blocking the next intersection were the two fire trucks and ambulance. Cop cars were parked haphazardly in the street, blocking all traffic as cops with red beacons waved cars to do a U-Turn. Strobe lights from the emergency vehicles were hazy from the smoke and bounced off the houses.

I knew. I didn’t know how, but I knew. “Lance,” I whimpered.

“I got you,” he mumbled, parking the car in front of a police cruiser. Fire trucks blocked the scene, but even from inside the car, I could feel the heat against my skin.

Together we climbed out, although it pained me to let go of his hand. A cop immediately stepped forward to block Archer’s path and he allowed them to as I snuck past to skirt the fire trucks. What I saw felt like a dream. Firefighters were running hoses across the street clad in their gear and boots, water poured onto the street, and my house was up in flames.

I stood there, frozen, the heat from the blaze a warning to get back, but I couldn’t move. Disbelief felt heavy in my chest and it took a few moments to realize I was crying. Hands grasped my shoulders and I knew it was Archer. We just stood there together, watching as my new start went up like a matchstick.


	11. Chapter 11

I was vaguely aware of Archer. Everyone else around me appeared as hazy figures, but I knew he was there. He was always close by, hovering, directing traffic and barking instructions and demands. His words were unclear but held authority even I recognized.

I had been moved to a safe house in the hills after spending hours at the police station. I had no recollection of the drive there or the overall landscape, but as I began to pull myself out of the fog that pressed down on my shoulders, I realized dawn was breaking over the peaks. Streaks of orange and pink illuminated the trees and grass, finally finding my feet as it snuck ever closer. It felt like Jake. Insipid, persistent, overbearing. No matter where I went, it would find me.

Consciousness filled me and reality seeped in, finding me alone on a balcony, wrapped in a fleece blanket in a rocking wicker chair. The house was three stories, the house built into the hillside with a carport and basement, I was on the top, and I dimly remembered Archer walking me through the house to the master bedroom and leaving me there, assuming I was going to go to sleep.

I didn’t remember opening the sliding glass door, and I couldn’t find it in myself to care how dumb it was that I was outside. Jake was haunting me. A specter in my life, a tenacious menace that would keep coming until one of us was dead. If it made this whole ordeal end faster, if it kept Archer safe….

….I stopped my thoughts there. I was weary and tired, numb and in shock. That route of thinking was sacrilegious and was a kick in the teeth to everyone who had helped me along the way.

Clutching the blanket to my chest with one hand, I stood and went back inside the house, locking the slider behind me and closing the curtains. The scenery was beautiful up in the hills, but it was Jake’s territory. He thrived in off grid situations, and whoever thought to bring me out here was an idiot.

The house was quiet as I made my way down to the second level. It was decorated in lovely grays and blues with cream accents, making it feel homey and calm. There was a bathroom to the right of the stairs and a short hallway that I assumed led to a second bedroom. Turning the knob on the closed door, I gently pushed it open and peeked inside, finding Archer asleep in bed.

Biting my lip, the urge to be near him strong, I stepped inside the room and closed the door, dropping my blanket and shucking my jeans before crawling in bed next to him. Archer opened one eye to look at me, immediately lifting the covers and curling his massive body around mine. His leg pinned mine to the mattress, and I snuggled into his chest, inhaling his scent and warmth. I didn’t stop to analyze how natural this felt.

“I could have shot you,” he grumbled.

Under my head, beneath the pillow, I felt the hardness of a handgun. “You knew I was up and walking around before I ever made it to the stairs,” I responded, my faith in his abilities firm.

Beneath the blankets he was only clad in boxers, and our bare legs rubbed together in an enticing manner. I felt protected and safe, my affection for Archer growing even in the middle of personal disaster. Our conversation from the other day echoed in my head. He wanted to wait. He wanted to be sure our feelings were real. I had agreed at the time, but suddenly, being away from him was impossible. I couldn’t imagine not being with him, not taking that risk. Archer was worth it. He was a good man, decent and kind, funny, dedicated, strong, everything I needed and more that I wanted to aspire to be.

Archer’s hair was loose and spilled around us, so I picked a few strands off his chest and rubbed them against my cheek.

“Did you sleep?” he asked, his lips pressing against my temple.

“No.”

“Are you going to?”

I gave a half shrug. “Maybe I will be able to now.” The words made my stomach clench a little, as if I had admitted some deep secret.

Archer’s hand found my thigh and ran up my hip, brushing my panties, and up into my shirt to my ribs. It lay there, not moving, my shirt racked up underneath my breasts. “Better get comfortable then.” His thumb tapped on my bra.

Tilting my head up to look at him, our eyes meeting, I whispered softly, “I don’t want to move. Will you help?”

“Oh, Baby.”

The words were a mix of promise and a yearning. Turning so that I was pressed fully against his chest, my hands on his biceps, I kept my eyes on his as I felt his hand reach around my back, taking the time to run his fingers across my skin, and snap my bra open. I licked my lip as he dragged one bra strap down my shoulder as far as he could before I lay on my back. Refusing to look away, I held my breath as his hand dragged hungrily back down my ribs, across my stomach, his nails lightly scratching the under side of my breasts, to my other side.

“Fuck,” he moaned. I was aware of his hard on against my hip, but I lay perfectly still. This moment felt precious and fragile, and I was deathly afraid if I reacted in anyway, he would come to his scenes and leave me feeling bereft.

He stilled, not making a move to continue his task. “Archer?”

His brow furrowed in light confusion, but he didn’t seem angry. More like he was baffled how we ended up here. “I like it when you call me Lance.”

Giving him a sweet smile, I nodded. “I can call you Lance if you want me to.”

“You do the rest,” he choked out. It was then I realized he was holding himself very still, like a predator stalking his prey. I felt extremely sexy and wanton, his stare spreading warmth through my whole body and pooling between my legs.

With deliberate movements, moving swiftly so he couldn’t stop me, I pulled my shirt over my head and flung my bra across the room. It took two seconds, and in the next one I was pressed chest to chest with him, my lips against his neck as I took stock in his reaction.

I felt his heartbeat against my skin, beating rapidly like a call to battle. His hand lay across my stomach his fingers twitching with indecision. Against my lips his pulse raced, and I kissed the area softly. “Lance,” I whispered, “nothing has to happen now. But I do want it to happen. And I want it to happen with you.” I leaned back to access his expression, and I found his eyes smoldering.

He was silent for a few moments, and then the hand that was on my stomach reached up and speared through my hair as his lips came down and covered mine, sweeping me away with him. His tongue delved into my mouth as I gasped, and I clung to him, my hips thrusting towards his in mindless need. He claimed me, made wordless promises to me, filling my heart and soul with nothing but what was to come between us and how good it was going to be.

Pressing his forehead to mine, he breathed heavily. “Why am I so fascinated by you?”

My heart swelled and I pecked his sexy lower lip, pulling it between my teeth and nibbling on it before I could answer with some embarrassing love confession.

“Rest, baby,” he whispered in my ear, turning me over so that my body was snug against his. His hard cock cradled against my ass, his arms wrapped around me, and his lips in my hair. That was how I finally fell asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Clad only in my shirt and panties, I made my way downstairs towards the delicious aromas emanating from the kitchen. As I rounded the corner, I found Lance shirtless and clad in a pair of jeans, his hair tied and streaming down his expansive back. He was facing the stove, but I knew he was aware of my presence. He always seemed to be.

“Coffee is on the bar,” he announced without looking at me.

The kitchen opened up into the dining and living spaces, with large floor to ceiling windows showing the amazing hillside. It seemed risky, that much direct eyesight. Moving around the island to the barstools, I slid onto one and gripped the coffee cup in my hand. “The windows…” I trailed off, my eyes darting around the room.

“They are tinted and reflective. Keeps the house cool. No one can see inside during the day. At night, there are blinds built in that can be drawn down.” Lance looked over his shoulder at me. “I explained that last night. Don’t you remember?”

Shaking my head, I felt my shoulders relax a little. “I don’t remember much past the…” I choked on the last word. Fire. Everything I had, as little as it was, was gone.

Abandoning the food on the stove, he switched off the burner and rounded the kitchen island, pulling me into his arms. I rested my head on his chest, wrapping my arms around his back as he kissed the top of my head. “You are safe, ok? I’m here with you and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

I nodded but my mind raced. How had we gotten here? Where was my car? His bike? His stuff. I stiffened. I wasn’t the only one who lost everything in that fire. “Lance,” I pulled back to look up at him. “We don’t have any clothes. Our stuff.”

He smiled at me. “I prefer you naked anyway, baby. And I’m happy to strip down to show solidarity.”

There was the man who drove me crazy and intrigued me. Grinning at him, I shoved his arm. “How would you know? You’ve never seen me naked.”

Returning to the stove, he continued cooking. “I know every inch of your body. I’ve mapped it out dozens of times in my head.”

I just rolled my eyes, sipping at my coffee, wondering if he sneaked a peek as I slept. He had a will of stone, I marveled. Any other man would have made his move, damn the consequences. Archer’s restraint just made me fall harder for him.

“There is a box of clothes in the basement that the police department sent over. Donations that hadn’t made it to the churches yet. I’ll go down and grab them and we can see what will work.”

Nodding, I turned my head as I heard my phone ring in the distance. “Where’s my phone?” I asked, standing from the barstool.

“On the charger near the front door. Those windows aren’t tinted so come back in here when you answer it.”

I didn’t respond, jogging down the hall as I recognized Jericho’s ringtone. Snatching the phone off the foyer table, I mindlessly sat down on the stairs. “Hello?”

“Blair, where the fuck are you?!” he raged in my ear. “Your house is all over the news, some explosion or something, the cops aren’t saying shit, I thought you were dead!”

I didn’t correct him about the fire. “Hey, look, I’m sorry, its been a crazy night.”

“Where are you?” he asked again, his tone panicked.

Biting my lip, I pulled my knees closer to my chest. “I actually don’t know, and that’s kind of the point.”

There was a long silence and then, “Are you in witness protection or something?”

My eyes searched the staircase with its white trim and wood steps. “Of sorts. Look, I’m not alone. Lance is with me.”

Snorting in my ear, Jericho scoffed. “Oh, it’s Lance now is it? Not Archer?”

“No need to get petulant, Chris, we get along. He flirts with me constantly.” I didn’t know why I felt the need to defend my blossoming relationship, especially to Jericho.

“Right, sure. He only flirts with you to keep you compliant. If you argued with him, you’d make his job harder.”

My stomach knotted in anxiousness. “Now really isn’t the time for this. I’m alive, I’m safe, and if this call is about my next shift at Fozzy’s, I quit.”

As I pulled the phone from my ear, I could hear his protests, but I pressed the end button and closed my eyes, resting my head against the banister. I didn’t understand what just happened, why Jericho felt the need to sabotage anything Lance and I had together, friendship or otherwise. The seed of doubt was there now, though. Was Archer just yanking my chain to make me obedient? I had made my move a couple of times, and this morning was the closest we had gotten to sealing the deal. What kept stopping him? Was it his job? His duty? Was he playing me? I was a red-blooded woman who was hot for him, why did he keep me at arms length? Not ten minutes ago I was praising his ability to hold himself together, and now I felt embarrassed and rejected.

“Blair!” Lance boomed, his voice echoing down the hallway and causing me to jump up. “I told you to stay away from the front of the house!”

Scrambling to my feet I left my phone in the foyer and entered the kitchen. Two plates were at opposite ends of the six-person dining table and my heart sank. Maybe Jericho wasn’t far off. Looking up at Lance, I questioned him without words.

“Grab a seat and get some food in you. You look like you are about to blow over.” He turned and sat down, grabbing a fork and diving into the eggs like a man possessed.

Confusion written all over my face, I sat opposite of him, my hands in my lap. I couldn’t look at him, I felt self-conscious and mortified. I was so sure we were making progress, making baby steps towards whatever was next for us. Us. Was that a pipe dream? Was I imagining it? Did I really fall so far into the damsel in distress mindset that I fell for my protector, a man I had no ties to? A stranger? I felt a flush come over my face and I stared at my plate, unseeing.

“Blair? Why aren’t you eating?”

I refused to look up. I knew that if I did, I would start crying and that would humiliate me beyond measure. “I’m not hungry.”

His fork clanged against his plate and I heard his sigh. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday. What’s wrong?”

Jericho’s voice echoed in my head. Compliance. Archer was nice to me to keep me safe. To keep me from going off the rails. He couldn’t do his job and keep me alive if I was running away from him. I felt as if my spine suddenly was made of steel and I straitened up, lifting my eyes to his, defiantly.

“You know, I was thinking. The police are now fully involved with my case, they believe me now. I guess someone setting my house on fire finally convinced them. So, I don’t need security any more, they can post a patrolman outside. And since my house burned to the ground, I can’t offer you a place to live in exchange for your protection. Doesn’t seem right that you are still working so hard for no benefits.”

As I spoke, Archer slowly leaned back in his chair, his legs splayed underneath the table, his hands pressed firmly to the top. The muscle in his jaw twitched and I could tell he was gritting his teeth. He stared at me for long moments and I held myself still no matter how much I wanted to squirm. Somehow, I had thrown down a gauntlet I wasn’t even aware I had. And he was about to pick it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh Jericho, you dumb twit


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up....

“Let me get this straight,” he finally spoke. His voice was low, deep, and my pussy immediately wept for him. His stare was intense, seeing right through me as if he knew every insecurity I had and I felt exposed. “You think that I am here out of some sort of exchange? Some duty? A promise that I made, maybe?”

I nodded and he clicked his tongue at me.

“No, Baby. I’m here because I want to be. Understand this, I don’t do anything I don’t want to do.”

My mouth was open before I even knew what I was going to say. “Which is why you haven’t fucked me yet.”

His eyebrow shot up. “No, Blair. It’s because your ex is stalking you and you are highly emotional and scared, even if you don’t want to admit it you yourself. When I’m buried deep in your pussy I don’t want you to look up at me and regret it. I want you to be sure, because once I’m there, I’m not leaving. You aren’t a fling for me, Baby.”

My whole body seized and I gasped. I was on my feet and moving towards him without having a plan, I just knew I needed him. He watched me, the predator becoming the prey, but he was still relaxed, confident, and a little smug. He knew he had pushed every single one of my buttons, and I was at a breaking point.

Straddling his lap, I didn’t give him time to react. I pulled him to me and kissed him deeply, loving how his hands immediately gripped my thighs and pulled me closer to his jean covered hips. My hands held his face still as I took what I wanted from him, running my tongue over his in a sensual heated dance. I used my body unabashedly to try to convince him that he wanted me. Jericho’s voice still lingered, casting doubt, and only Lance could erase. I needed him with a desperation that bordered on pain, and I knew that if I woke up tomorrow and he was gone, I would be devastated. But I couldn’t stop myself, I couldn’t ignore how I felt when he was around and how I yearned for his body. I wouldn’t regret a moment of this, and it was up to Lance to prove that he really wanted me enough to stay. Because I wanted him enough to trust him.

Behind me, Lance swept his plate off the table with one arm and lifted me up. Food and china splattered everywhere but neither of us cared. Pushing me back with a hand to my shoulder, Lance stayed seated, my feet resting on his thighs.

With a glance up my body from between my bare legs, he pulled my panties to the side and licked my outer lips, causing me to moan. My hands speared into my own hair in an attempt to hold onto something, my body wiggling on the table. Lance wrapped his arms around my legs and hauled me closer to his sexy mouth. His tongue delved in deep and then withdrew to circle my clit repeatedly, driving me crazy. He explored me using his tongue, lips, and teeth. I moaned, my hips chasing his mouth as he suckled hard at my clit and then moved to lick up my juices.

He held me open with one hand, the other unwinding from around my leg. He reached under his mouth and pressed one of his large, long fingers against my entrance, begging admission. Gasping, I relaxed and he slid in, pushing once and twice before adding another finger. His mouth stayed on my clit, raising my temperature higher and higher. Gripping the sides of the table, I lifted my hips, silently pleading for more. More of what, I wasn’t sure, nor did I care. I just needed something, the ball in my stomach sank further and further down, roiling and brewing and ready to explode.

“Lance,” I nearly sobbed, my eyes screwed shut against the feelings he was invoking. “Please, I need…”

“I know what you need,” he breathed against my hip, kissing the skin there. It tickled, but I was so far gone it hardly registered. Curling his fingers up, he brushed against my g-spot and I convulsed in his arms. “You need my cock in your pussy, Blair. You’ve all but begged me for it this week. So now, I want you to do it. Beg. How much do you want it?”

His husky words were driving me crazy. With every light touch against my inner walls I felt like a rubber band ready to snap. I wished I could touch him, but he stayed just out of reach. “I do,” I whined, breathless. “I do want you. Your cock. Oh god, please, Lance, please. I need you.” I shook my head, mindless as the pleasure ebbed and flowed around me, and I was helpless to it all.

“Look at me, Blair. Baby,” he caught my attention, my eyes meeting his. “I’m going to fuck you on the table. I want you to remember, I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. And I really want to do this.”

I didn’t understand what he meant, but as he finished his sentence he suddenly thrust his fingers inside me and sucked hard on my clit, sending my orgasm washing over me as I screamed into the morning. I felt him stand, pulling his fingers out of me, my pussy clenching and begging to be filled. I whined. In the next moment, Lance’s bare cock was pushing through my folds, filling me better than his fingers ever could. He was thick and long, and my pussy convulsed around him in another orgasm, my clit throbbing. Leaning up on my arms, I reached for him, grateful when he pulled me up to kiss me.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I humped against him, desperate for him. His thrusts were strong and powerful, his own desperation for my body betraying his normally cool behavior. I raised my feet to prop up on the table, opening myself up more for him, bringing him closer to my body.

I couldn’t stand even an inch of air between us. My nipples rubbed against his, pebbled and sensitive as we made out, sharing breath and moans with each thrust. Lance’s grunts were the sexiest sounds I’d ever heard, and I felt a sob get caught in my chest. I was head over heels in love with Lance Archer, a man I had only known a week, on the run from a psychotic ex, my house burned to the ground, hidden in the mountains, and all I could think about was how I could keep this man in my arms forever.

Lance reached up and gripped the back of my neck, pulling away from me enough to look into my eyes. His hips moved rapidly, sending vibrations through my whole body. “I’m here to stay, Blair. Are you hearing me? If you want me, I’m not leaving.”

Beneath hooded eyes, I searched his expression, daring to hope. It wasn’t a love confession, and that was ok. It was too soon, no matter if the emotions were on the rise. We needed more time. But I could see he meant what he said. I was safe with him, with my body and my heart. I just had to trust him.

On a gasp, I whispered, “I want you. Stay.”

Lance swooped in, sealing us together with a kiss that lit my veins on fire and sent me spiraling to the heavens. Fireworks exploded behind my eyes as I came hard around his cock, fluttering and spasming, milking him, begging for him to claim me.

“Oh, fuck,” he grunted against my mouth. His hips stuttered against mine, the rocking of the table causing creaks to echo against the walls. With a final push, he emptied himself inside of me, filling me with his warmth.

Lance slumped against me and I put my arm back to brace us. His forehead rested against my collarbone as we tried to catch our breaths. Slowly, I wrapped my legs around his waist, hesitant to let him go. Our world was crazy right now, our emotions high, and in this moment, everything was perfect. I didn’t want it to ever end.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posts, friends. Quarantine got me in SadVille but I'm trying to work through it. Hope you enjoy the next few installments!

Lance’s head pillowed on my stomach as we curled up together on the couch, trying to catch our breath. He reached behind him and dragged a throw blanket over our hips, cocooning us in warmth. We were quiet, my fingers in his hair and his arms wrapped around my body.

Our dynamic had shifted. In the mid-morning light, our cards had been laid out on the table, literally. For the first time in a long time, I couldn’t even measure the time, I felt content and safe. Happy even. My faith in Lance had never wavered, I knew he was there to protect me, but now, I believed he was doing it for a different reason.

Looking around the room, I enjoyed the quiet moment. The ceilings were high, a hutch with a TV in the corner, the wrap around couch we were cuddling on opposite it, and the sliding glass doors to the second level balcony allowed a sweeping view of the valley. Summer was ending, fall right around the corner, and I wondered if we’d be here long enough to see the leaves change.

“Who owns this house?” I asked, breaking the comfortable silence. I felt Lance still under my hands. Gripping his hair, I tugged his head back so that he was forced to look at me. My eyebrow raised. “Lance?”

Clearing his throat, his eyes shifted to my breast, and he swiped his tongue along the underside, causing my body to clench in response. “It’s a rental.”

I knew he was trying to distract me, there was something he was holding back. I gasped as he captured my nipple in his mouth and sucked hard. “But who owns it?”

“Mmm,” he moaned. “I do.”

My body jerked in shock. Again, I looked around the house with new eyes. There was absolutely nothing personal in the house. It was tastefully decorated, but there were no pictures or knickknacks that would give it away as a home. “You own a house, yet you came to live with me?” I was baffled, my brain fuzzy from Lance’s attention at my breast. “Didn’t you say you got into a fight with your landlord?”

He nipped at my skin, then soothed it with licks and kisses. Sighing, Lance rested his head back against the cushion to look at me. “Blair, Jericho did explain my career, right? And my clients?”

I nodded.

“I have multiple houses across the country. I rent them out for income, they are investment properties. This isn’t my home. I don’t have one. I travel a lot for work and settling down was never convenient.” His hand splayed across my stomach, hip to hip, his thumb brushing across my skin sending little tingles through my body.

My brows furrowed as I tried to understand his life. He had big name celebrity clients and multiple rental properties. Biting my lip, I began to understand Lance was probably more well off than I realized. “Um, are you rich?”

He chuckled. His attention was rivieted to my chest and he brought a hand up to begin plucking at my nipple. Wetness dampened my thighs and I struggled to keep my eyes from rolling into the back of my head. Everything he did to my body felt good. “No, I’m not rich. I’m probably what you consider well off, but I can’t whisk you away to Fiji for a month.”

Pushing his hand away so I could concentrate, I ignored his fake glare. “Lance, what are we doing here?”

His blue eyes locked with mine and I felt my blood run cold. His expression had switched from playful to serious with just a blink. “Baiting a trap.”

My heart thundered against my ribs. “What does that mean.”

Just as quickly as it came, that intense stare disappeared from his face. Leaning down, he rubbed his beard against the swell of my breasts, his eyes closed almost pensively. “Baby, you made it clear you were tired of running and being terrified. Hager answered. I can control what happens here, I know the land and I know the house. It will take him a few days to find us, and then some time to scout the area. If what you say is true about his survival tactics, that’s how he’ll play this out. He won’t come in here blind.”

Panic rose up inside of me so quickly I felt nauseous. I had challenged Jake, that was true. It was my fault he burned down my house. Lance’s words reminded me of all the times I heard Jake mention ferreting out the target. I played into his hands, getting frustrated and throwing a tantrum, so he took away my haven. It left me vulnerable. Exposed. Out in the open.

Except he didn’t know Lance had a place for us to go.

“Blair.”

I focused on Lance’s handsome face. He was poised above me, stoic and calm, my rock in the turbulent sea. I moved my hand from his hair to his arm, feeling his strength and gathering my own. “I will never lie to you. But I need you with a steady head on your shoulders, ok?”

Nodding, I leaned my head against his arm as he kissed my forehead.

“How do you feel about guns?” he asked gently, as if speaking to a wounded animal.

I hesitated a moment. “I know about them, I know the rules of safety, but I’ve never used one. Jake said that was man’s work, protecting the woman. Everything I know is theory.”

Lance cursed under his breath, sitting up on the couch so that my legs were over his lap. The blanket got tangled around his hips and tugged down my body, exposing me to him. His eyes raked over my skin, and everywhere they touched felt like a physical caress. “That’s bullshit. I won’t have you being bait and a sitting duck. I’ll teach you how to defend yourself if you want.”

I agreed, sitting up and wrapping my arms around his neck. Kissing his cheek, I then looked him head on. “I’m better with knives.”

Underneath my leg, I felt his cock jump. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

Giggling, I unwrapped myself from the blanket and stood. “I need a shower. And clothes.”

Standing, Lance grinned at me. “I’ll bring some up from the basement. I’ll show you my ideas for security when you are fully clothed.”

Blushing, I tried not to cover my naked body in self-consciousness. He had devoured me like I was his last meal, he obviously liked what I had. And, truth be told, as I stared at his large body dwarfing mine, I liked what he had too.

“Fine, I’ll meet you in my bedroom.”

Chuckling, he swatted my ass as I passed by. “That sounded like a Hell of an invitation.”


	15. Chapter 15

Stepping out of the bathroom with a towel around my body and another on my head, I found Lance standing at the end of my bed with two boxes of clothes, wearing a black t-shirt and faded blue jeans. Sunlight streamed in through the windows and a breeze had begun to pick up, rustling the tree leaves through the valley.

He glanced at me, a flicker of appreciation in his eyes, before pointing to a stack of folded clothes on the bed. “Those looked to be about your size.”

Biting my lip I crossed the wooden floor to pick up a small pair of sweats and a ratty old t-shirt with a state college football team on it. “I need to wash my underwear.”

Lance’s lip quirked up, his hands continuing to pull clothes out of the box closest to him. “Don’t do it on my account. Knowing you could be walking around the house with no barriers between you and my cock makes me hard.” Chuckling, he continued. “I already threw them in the washer when you went to take a shower.”

A flush crawled up my cheeks. Ignoring his crassness, I changed the subject. “What kind of security measures are in place here?”

“All windows and doors are rigged with an alert that sounds through the house when they are opened.”

Interrupting him, I thought about just that morning when I sat out on the master bedroom balcony. “Not in here they aren’t.”

Lance’s eyes turned cold in a flash. “No, not in here, because I didn’t want to wake you up when I installed them. I was going to do it today. How did you know that?”

Even knowing he would never harm me, Lance’s stare intimidated me, and a chill ran down my back. “I sat outside for a while before finding you.”

Without a word, he growled and whirled around to face the window, his body language screaming tension. Leaning a clenched hand against the wall, he bowed his head, and I took a step backwards. He was radiating rage and frustration, and I bit my lip in nervousness.

“I understand,” he started, his tone low and menacing, his breath labored as if he was trying to control himself, “that sometimes you are impulsive. But Blair, there are some things that you need to think about before you do them.”

I halted my retreat. He was right. But there was no way I could explain that this morning, recovering from shock, I had no memory of making the choice to go outside. It didn’t matter. I wondered about how stressed he was, if he was worried. Lance was literally in the crossfire of an ongoing domestic dispute. He was patient yet firm. He stood by my side with everything going on and never hesitated when danger appeared.

Sighing, I made my way over to him, ducking under his arm to squeeze between the window and his body. I clutched the towel between my breasts as I looked up at him with soft adoration. Admiration for his patience and resolve swelled in my chest.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t do it intentionally. As soon as I came to my senses I came inside and immediately went to find you. Put the alarms on the doors and windows if it will make you feel better, but I promise, I won’t do it again.”

Lance wrapped one arm around my waist and hauled me against his body while turning us around so that his back was to the window. They were tinted, as he had explained before, but I knew it was ingrained in his body to keep me away from windows. “Nothing can happen to you, Blair. I just found you.”

He pressed his lips to my temple and I snuggled closer to his heat. I was getting chilly after stepping out of the hot shower, but I didn’t want to leave his embrace. “I know, I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

As he leaned against the windowsill, he pulled me between his legs and wrapped his arms around me. He trailed kisses down my cheek to my neck while one hand cupped my ass. It didn’t feel overtly sexual. It was as if he was just reassuring himself I was there, comforting the both of us. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. “Finish going through these clothes, pick what you want. I’ll meet you downstairs in the basement and we can make a plan, ok?”

I nodded, watching as he let me go and stood. Following a few steps behind him as he left the room under the pretense of closing the door, I stopped at the doorway to watch as he made his way to the top of the stairs. Lance halted, his back to me, running a hand over his hair and tugging at the ends before he sat at the top of the staircase. His arms rested on his knees and he hung his head low. Lance looked exhausted, worn down.

I moved back, realizing I wasn’t supposed to see him that vulnerable. My heart broke for him. Lance never let me see him in doubt or worry, and I suddenly understood the toll my situation had on him. Keeping a headstrong woman safe was difficult, but Jake was a beast unlike any other. He was singularly focused on me, which made him dangerous and persistent. While he had his routines, I had no doubt that Jake would willingly step outside of his comfort zone if it meant the ability to get near me. To do what? The questions haunted me, as I was sure it did Archer.

All of Jake’s previous messages seemed as if he was trying to lure me back to him, as if all of this could just be erased if he got me back. But after the fire, there was a shift in the air. No longer did it feel as if he was trying to win me back. I still wasn’t convinced he was going to kill me, but I knew that Lance was planning for that eventuality.

I was not a fighter. I could protect myself reasonably well, but in no way was I going to be able to stop Jake Hager if he came at me. I needed Lance focused and I needed to follow his instructions. He was in danger just as much as I was, and I wasn’t going to be the one to put us at risk again.

Quietly closing the door, I pulled the towels off my body and slipped the sweats and t-shirt on, amazed that they actually fit. I was hyper aware that I was naked under the clothes, the shirt brushing against my nipples pebbled them and the soft fabric rubbed at the junction of my legs. I didn’t know what I would do if I dampened the pants. Tying the tails of the shirt at my waist I moved back into the bathroom.

Discovering I didn’t have a comb, I ran my fingers through my hair and put it up in a ponytail to keep it off my shoulders. I took longer than I needed to, giving Lance time to pull himself together. He wouldn’t thank me for seeing him that way. When I could stall no longer, I left the bedroom, finding Lance gone.

Reaching the bottom floor, I spied my phone on the table near the entrance and checked it for messages. There were a couple from Jericho, apologizing for being a dick, one from Sammy, asking if I was going in to work, and two from an unknown number.

My stomach clenched.

**_You can’t Lie to me. I see everything._ **

**_M I N E_ **

Closing my eyes and squeezing them shut, I set my phone down and leaned against the banister of the stairs. Sighing, I reopened my eyes to find Lance in front of me, his expression stone cold, but I caught the hint of worry. I didn’t even wonder why I didn’t hear his approach.

Tilting my head to indicate the phone, I quipped, “I think it’s time for a new phone.”

Lance had put a black and white bandana on his head, and it made him look dangerous and risky. Wetness pooled between my legs but I steadfastly ignored it. “Normally I’d agree, but it’s my only clue as to what Hager is thinking.”

My body felt heavy. “What do you think this means?” I didn’t fool myself. Lance had already scanned the messages on my phone long before I found them. I should have been pissed off that he was violating my privacy, but honestly, now wasn’t the time. I couldn’t have secrets while being hunted.

Lance’s blue eyes shined brightly, popping against all the black he was wearing. “He’s either nearby or knows where you are.”

Trying to quell the nervous sound of my voice, I looked away from him. “Who knows I’m here?”

“The captain of the police department and the fire chief. If they told anyone, I don’t know.” He looked around the foyer, scanning the front door, the stairs, and the side table before resting on me again. “Let’s postpone you showing me how handy you are with those knives, ok? I’ll finish the alarms in your room, get your clothes dry, and then we can head into town. I should talk to the captain, see if he let it slip or if we were followed last night.”

Nodding, I bit my lip. “I can go with you?”

Stepping forward, Lance pulled me against his body, his fore finger tilting my chin up so I could meet his gaze. “I wouldn’t leave you here by yourself. But I think it’s best if I see the captain alone. How do you feel about visiting Jericho?”

My fists gripped his shirt tightly. Jericho and I obviously had some things to work out, his insinuation that Lance was placating me to keep me compliant still echoed in my head. Seeing him and my friends seemed like a treat after being so stressed out though, so I agreed, getting up on my tiptoes to kiss Lance’s lips.

Patting his chest, I stepped back. “I know how to do laundry, so I’ll do that. You work on the security. Are you hungry? Do you want me to make a quick lunch?”

Giving me a sexy grin, he swatted my ass and then gripped it hard, causing me to squeak. “A hot woman barefoot in the kitchen? Fuck yes.”

Rolling my eyes I danced away from his wandering hands, marveling at how quickly he had brightened my mood. “Don’t get all excited yet. It’s just a sandwich.”

I heard his voice behind me as I entered the kitchen, “Make that two. I burned off all my breakfast fucking you against the table this morning.”


	16. Chapter 16

My world seemed strange. In just 24 hours I’d lost my house, my car, my job, been moved to a secluded location, been threatened, and made love to. Clinging to Lance’s body as he navigated his motorcycle down the twists and turns of the mountain road, I felt separated from it all. My life was no longer my own. I was following blindly, unsure of myself or anyone else, except for Lance. He was my safe haven, my rock, when everything else seemed unsure.

Wind ripped hair from my ponytail, but it felt wonderful to feel it against my face. And I was thankful to be back in my jeans again. With underwear. The vibration of the bike between my legs and Lance’s back brushing against my chest were setting my nerves on fire, and I had to keep admonishing myself. One ride on his cock and I was already starved for himself. I’d read about women who fell for their bodyguards and had always thought it was silly. With all the danger, who had time to think about sex?

And here I was, wholly focused on Lance Archer as if he was air and I was drowning. The only spin I could put on it that made any sense to my logical mind was that he was a distraction, and a damn good one at that.

Immediately, I felt guilty. My feelings for Lance were real, I knew that without a doubt. And he seemed pretty convincing when he held me close and told me how much he cared about me. With Jericho’s accusation, I wondered if I needed to ask him if there was a clause in Archer’s contract about sleeping with the client.

Ashamed again, I buried my face against Lance’s back as he turned onto the highway. The roar of the motorcycle drowned out everything except the wind in my ears. I recognized the highway, but as I looked back to see the road we turned off of, it had disappeared amidst the brush and trees lining the hard top. Unless you knew it was there, you’d never find it.

Trying to push away the impending thoughts of how I had no control over anything in my life, I instead focused on seeing Fozzy’s again. Arguing with Jericho felt weird, but I missed Sammy’s vivacious smile, Santana’s antics, and Ortiz’s surly attitude. Deep down, I knew Jericho was just trying to look out for me, like he always did. The boys tried to treat me like an equal, but the fact of the matter was, I was the only female in a biker bar. They were protective.

Lance slowed down the bike and I lifted my head, realizing we were already at Fozzy’s. I spotted a few cars and SUVs in the parking lot, belonging to my boys. It was early afternoon, and Fozzy’s wouldn’t be open for business for a few hours. Lance parked next to Ortiz’s SUV, kicking down the kickstand before holding out a hand to help me off the bike.

I stood beside him, fixing my ponytail as he looked up at me, still seated. He looked dangerous and sexy, and I had to force my thoughts from impurity.

“Need me to go in with you?” he asked, watching my movements.

I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. How long are you going to be gone?” My eyes scanned the parking lot, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, but I was beginning to inherit some of Lance’s mannerisms. I didn’t like being out in the open anymore.

Adjusting his sunglasses on his nose, he gave a light shrug. “I’m hoping only an hour or two. No more. I didn’t exactly give the captain a warning I was coming, so I don’t even know if he’s there. If he’s not, I’ll swing by the firehouse to see if they were able to salvage anything useable from your place.”

I felt myself wince, but I just nodded. I didn’t want to think about the state of my belongings. “Hurry back.” Turning to step up on the curb, I felt a tug on my pants leg. Looking back, Lance’s eyebrow peeked up over the rim of his glasses.

“Where are you going without giving me a kiss?”

I cast another glance around the parking lot. Behind the bar was an alley that abutted up to a slight grassy hill, with an apartment complex on the other side. No one was around. “What if we are being watched?” I murmured, afraid someone had superhuman hearing or something.

Lance smirked at me and I felt my legs weaken. “Let everyone see how much you like it when I kiss you, Baby.”

There was no way I could deny him. Stepping close to his side, I leaned down just a little, as even seated on the bike, Lance was still a towering figure. “If you are going to get us killed, you better make it good.”

He grinned. “I can fuck you right here on this bike for everyone to see. Would that be good enough?” His lips fluttered over mine, ignoring my attempts to catch them. “The whole town could hear you screaming my name against the handlebars.”

Reaching up, I gripped his hair in my hand and tugged his mouth to mine, desperate to quench the hunger he had started with his words. We clashed together, his hand coming up to grip my ass as he tugged me hard against his side. I was devoured by him, claimed, right there in the open. My head went fuzzy and I realized I had stopped breathing.

Lifting my head, I could read Lance’s own hunger in his eyes. “Once wasn’t enough, Lance. Hurry back so you can take me home with you.” Again, I dipped down to give him a soft parting kiss.

He groaned, licking my bottom lip as I pulled away. “I’ve got to go talk to the fucking police with a goddamn hard on, Blair.”

I beamed at him, escaping his grabby hands and stepping up on the curb. “It was your idea, Lance. Take some responsibility.”

He watched as I made my way down the sidewalk and entered the building before starting the bike and driving away. That made me feel good, like he always had my back. As usual, after stepping in from the hot sunshine, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim bar lighting.

“Bel-Air!”

I heard Sammy before I saw him, but as my eyes cleared I found him rounding the bartop, a wide smile on his young face. As always, he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a backward cap on. Catching me in a hard hug, he held me tight before letting me go.

“Hey Sammy,” I greeted, kissing him on the cheek. “Doing ok?”

He nodded, throwing his arm over my shoulders, guiding me to a barstool. “Better than you. What the fuck, Blair? Your house burned down?”

Before I could answer him, Santana emerged from the back hallway, followed closely by Ortiz as usual. “Hey girl, are you finally here to work? We’re tired of doing your shifts,” he chided.

Rolling my eyes, I gave them each a quick one-armed hug as they passed by. They spilt up, Ortiz opening the jukebox to take money out and Santana stepped behind the bar to stock liquor. They were in fact covering for my shifts it seemed. Previously strictly security, I wondered how Jericho had convinced them to bartend.

“Unfortunately, no. I’m not here to work. Just stopped by for a quick chat.” I had no idea how much they knew about Jake and my house burning to the ground. I decided it was safer for each of them if I kept the details of my situation close to my chest.

Ortiz glared at me from over his shoulder. His hair was natural, a bandana holding it back from his face, his brown eyes covered by sunglasses he wore even inside. “Yo, Jericho said you quit. You crazy, Blair?”

“She didn’t quit,” a voice came from behind us. “She is taking a leave of absence.”

We all turned to find Jericho leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

“I didn’t know that was an option, Boss. Hey, can I take a leave of absence too,” Santana laughed, winking at Sammy when he joined.

“No, you idiots. It’s a Blair Corrigian special. No one cares if you rejects show up for work.” Jericho’s voice was stern but everyone grinned at him, knowing he was joking. He looked good standing there, I thought. I had missed his dry sense of humor.

“Careful, Chris,” I said as I slid off the barstool to give him a hug. “You might not have any employees left if you don’t treat them fairly.”

He scoffed, hugging me tightly. “They wouldn’t know what to do if they didn’t work here.” He glanced over my shoulder at the boys and then back at me. “Hey, come in my office so we can talk.”

I nodded, waving at my friends before I followed Jericho down the hall to his office, where he closed the door and stared at me. We stood face to face in the small space, and I felt an air of desperation surround my friend and boss.

“Blair, are you ok?” he finally asked.

I nodded and then shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, I’m in one piece. Terrified out of my mind but trying to keep myself together so that Lance doesn’t have to worry I’m going to go off the rails. He has enough on his plate.”

At the mention of Lance’s name, Jericho’s face changed from worry to indignant. “Anyone ever tell you not to sleep with the help?”

My mouth dropped open and I had to struggle to keep my temper in check. “I’m sure I’ve heard that before but since you are the one that paid him, I figure that doesn’t pertain to me.”

He ran a hand through his long blonde hair. “Payment gets delivered when this whole ordeal is over and you are alive. It’s in his interest to keep you living and breathing, Blair.”

Anger flooded my body and I took a moment to breath in and out of my nose before I responded. “That may be so, but fucking me is a huge distraction, so wouldn’t you say he’s putting himself at risk more than he needs to if it was just about a goddamn paycheck?”

Frustration was written all over his face. “Guess he likes to get his cake and eat it to!”

I shook my head, aware of how childish this whole argument was becoming. Holding my hand up in the air to stop him from speaking again, I lowered my voice to placate him. “I came here to be around my friends when I need them, Chris. I’m scared, I’m paranoid, and all I want is my life to go back to normal. I don’t even know what that is anymore, but I crave it desperately. When this is all over, whatever that looks like, I don’t want whatever is said in this office right now to ruin the friendship that you and I have. And I feel like we are right there, about to tip over the edge of something that we can’t return from.”

“I love you,” he blurted out.

My brain blanked and all I could hear was my heartbeat in my ears, thundering loudly as I tried to put the words together that had come out of my best friend’s mouth. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not ever. I didn’t think I was even in a position where I could handle this situation with tact. My ex-fiancé was stalking and possibly trying to kill me, my bodyguard was now my lover, and now my best friend and boss was professing his love for him.

I laughed. It was a nervous bubble of sound that escaped my mouth. Startled, I clapped my hand over my lips, my eyes wide as I stared at Jericho. His expression was one of tragic desperation, and my heart seemed to crack.

“Oh, Chris.”

It was now his turn to hold up his hand to stop me. “Don’t. I know, it’s stupid and horrible timing. I never imagined that having Archer protect you would end up with him swooping you off your feet. To be honest, you were supposed to come running to me. That’s how it worked in my head. I hired the bodyguard, I was your hero. That was fucking stupid.”

Seeing my best friend with such a sad look on his face made me tear up. Never in a million years did I think I would be the woman who captured his heart and also break it. I never saw him that way, and my mind raced, analyzing all of our interactions in the past. I hated second guessing my relationship with him.

“I can’t be that person for you, Jericho. I’m sorry.”

Sighing, he crossed his arms and leaned back against the door. “Not now or not ever?”

Furrowing my brows, I spread my hands out in front of myself, imploring him to understand. “Not ever. Our friendship was the one thing in my life I could depend on. It grounded me during a really scary time. You don’t even know how much I relied on that steady foundation as everything fell apart. I don’t know where this leaves us.”

He gave me a sardonic smile. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’ll always love you, Blair, I can’t change that. But our friendship is important to me too. I’d never dream of being inappropriate with you. And Archer is a good guy. Reliable. If he’s your choice, I support you.”

I was thankful Jericho was still willing to be friends after his love confession. Even knowing our relationship would never be the same again, I still hoped it was salvageable. I truly did depend on him more than I realized. Not having him or the boys in my life seemed unimaginable.

I felt like crying, and I wanted to hug him, but I held myself back. “Thank you. That means a lot.” I didn’t know what else to say, so I said nothing.

Tilting his head at the door, he stood up. “While you’re here, you might as well work. Garbage needs to go out and the bathrooms need to be cleaned.”

Scoffing, I brushed past him and opened the office door, finding three garbage bags near the backdoor at the end of the hall. “Sammy can do the bathrooms. I’m not on the clock. I’ll only do the garbage because I’ll never hear the end of it if I make a big deal about going into the alley.”

Jericho laughed, leaving his office and heading back towards the bar. “Santana has been bitching that the back door has been sticking, so don’t close it all the way.”

“Heaven forbid I should walk all the way around the building to get to the front door,” I mumbled to myself. Gathering the bags in both hands, I shoved the back door open with my back, then caught it with my foot so that it would softly close. The door appeared too big for the frame, and one really had to push on it hard to get it to close, so I wasn’t worried about it. Turning to the left, I headed to the dumpster that backed against the building, both lids up and open. I easily hefted the bags over the side and dusted my hands off on my jeans. Being near the dumpster always made me feel filthy, so I turned back to the door with thoughts of washing my hands dancing in my mind.

Jake Hager loomed over me, and I shrieked. His broad chest was a scant inch from my nose as he gripped my arms and threw me against the building, knocking the air out of my lungs. My eyes watered as my body cried for air, but I couldn’t seem to draw any in. Jake’s eyes burned with fury, his teeth clenched together and his blonde hair I used to love to run my fingers through looked greasy and unkempt.

My body frozen in fear and shock, Jake pressed his weight against me, pinning me to the wall. Leaning in close to my ear, his hands gripped my waist hard. “I meant it. I meant it, Blair. Mine. You are mine. Seems you are spreading your legs for everyone else but your future husband.”

He reached up and gripped my ponytail in his hand, yanking my head back so that I had to meet his crazed eyes. “There isn’t anywhere you can go that I won’t find you. You’ll come home, and it doesn’t matter to me if it’s kicking and screaming or in a body bag.”

My heart crashed against my ribs, my eyes wide with fear as he leaned down to run his nose along my neck to my throat. He placed a gentle kiss there, delicate, like he cherished me, and then replaced his lips with his hand. Slowly, ever so slowly, he watched my expression as he applied pressure. My body was starved for air, desperation made my limbs shake.

“I’ll see you very soon, Blair. And I’ll remind you of why you belong to me. It might take a while, but we’ll play with those pretty knives you love so much.”

At the thought of my knives, I mentally blasted myself for not carrying one with me. What good was skill if I didn’t even have one on hand? My nails raked Jake’s arm and hand as my throat burned and began to swell against the pressure. I struggled, fighting as much as I could as light dimmed along my peripheral vision and my muscles began to give out.

Jake’s hand released my throat and I gasped for a breath, the urge to scream loud in my mind. He trailed his fingers down my chest, groping and gripping my breasts and skin as he went. I stilled, trying to think of a way to get away. What he was doing to me wasn’t registering, I was somewhere else.

Jake plucked at my shirt then yanked my hips against his. I could feel his erection, and I pushed down the urge to vomit in his face. My skin crawled in repulsion. “Remember how good it was, Blair? God we fucked so hard it made me see stars. And you always wanted more. You’d wake me up in the middle of the night, my dick in your mouth…”

“Blair?”

I heard Sammy’s voice call for me from the hallway behind the partially closed door and I closed my eyes. I prayed Sammy wouldn’t come out here, Jake would kill him in a split second. But on the other hand, I wish for Sammy’s presence more than I ever had in my life.

“Soon.”

The word floated in the air, and then just as I felt Jake’s weight lift off of me and I cracked my eyes open, his fist came at me and nailed my face. My head cracked back and hit the wall, galaxies swirled in my vision and I slumped down to sit on the pavement, sobs escaping from my burning throat.

I heard the back door open. “Holy shit, Blair! Are you ok? What happened? Santana!” I heard Sammy’s voice but I couldn’t figure out from which direction it was coming from. Pain thundered in my head and my eye was swelling shut. I felt a trickle of something on my upper lip and I wiped at it, smelling blood.

Hands gripped my shoulders and I screamed.

“Blair! It’s me! It’s Sammy!”

Crying, I let him pull me into his embrace, his chest solid against the uninjured side of my body. “Jake. It was Jake. Did you see him?”

I felt his body twist one way and then the other. “No, I didn’t see anyone. I’m sorry! All I saw was you and I didn’t think to look around.”

Once again, I heard the sound of the door opening, but this time it was slammed against the building. “Sammy! Blair! What happened?”

There was a rush of footsteps, a lot of exclamations and chattering as Sammy explained, but I stayed quiet. Moving felt impossible, answering questions a burden, and trying to face the fact that now I knew, there was no doubt. Jake Hager meant to kill me.


	17. Chapter 17

The boys were like worried mother hens. Santana and Ortiz immediately set about trying to find Jake, no matter how much I begged them not to. Sammy carried me inside and sat me down at a table, trying not to jostle me too much. Jericho set about getting me an ice pack and hovering over me once he pressed it against my face. The chill of the ice settled in my bones, but I refused to cower in the chair. For the first time in months, my head felt clear. Whether he intended to or not, Jake had knocked some sense into me. I had no trouble at all imaging him doing all the things he said he would do to me, and that changed my perspective.

The door slammed open and we all turned our heads, mine a little slower than the others, to find Archer with Santana and Ortiz framed in the doorway. The sun streamed in behind them, casting their expressions in the dark, but I could feel Lance’s eyes on me.

He stood still for a moment, rage radiating out of him, before he stalked across the bar to my side. His blue eyes were wholly focused on my face as he pulled me to my feet to wrap his arms around my body. I hissed in pain, and he drew back, glaring at Jericho.

“I left her here for her safety, Jericho. What the fuck, I was only gone an hour!”

I could feel him trembling, and I buried my face in his chest, my hands gripping his t-shirt at his back.

“Look, I called as soon as Sammy found her. You didn’t even let me tell you what happened before you hung up on me!” I could hear Jericho’s indignation in his voice.

Lance looked down at me, his fingers lightly gripping my chin. Turning my face to the left and then the right, his eyes examined every piece of skin. “Who did this to you? Who? I swear to God, Blair, I’m going to start tearing shit apart. Tell me who dared to fucking hurt you?”

He already knew, I realized, staring up at him. He needed me to say it. “Jake.”

Lance’s trembling stopped and he stood as still as a statue. His eyes turned to ice but his fingers were still gentle as he dusted them across my eye. “I need to know everything. Every detail you can remember, Blair. I’m going to take his ass out.”

My nails dug into his skin as I clutched at him. “Please don’t leave me right now. I want to go home. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

Tears formed in my eyes and I had a hell of a time trying to blink them away through the swelling. Lance wiped them away, kissing my forehead. He lifted his head to look at my four friends. “Say goodbye, Blair. You won’t be coming back until all of this is over.”

I gave each of them hugs and kisses on the cheek. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lance get into Jericho’s personal space and hiss at him. “You couldn’t even keep your eye on her for one hour. I trusted you, Jericho. This isn’t a game. Her life is worth more than all the money on the planet. Keep your goddamn paycheck. It’s worth nothing!”

Lance turned and joined me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders and he swooped me outside. Sammy ran along behind us, the ice pack in his hands.

Lance’s bike was parked at an angle in the handicapped spot at the front of the building. “Can you ride?” he asked me.

A breath caught in my lungs at the thought of all the vibration that would hit my pained body, but I nodded. I honestly just wanted to be back at the house. Without hesitating, I climbed onto the bike, watching as Lance clapped Sammy on the back and took the ice pack from him.

“Thanks, man. I’ll take care of her.”

Sammy twisted his hands and nodded, then leaned over to hug me again. “Bye, Bel-Air.”

Lance climbed on in front of me and tucked the ice pack into the saddlebags. “Bye, Sammy.” I squeezed his hand as Lance started the bike, lifted the kickstand, and shot out of the Fozzy’s parking lot like a rocket.


	18. Chapter 18

Sitting at the kitchen table with a pen in my hand, I stared out at the beautiful foliage covering the valley. It had been three days since I had come face to face with Jake and I still wasn’t sure why he hadn’t taken his chance behind Fozzy’s. I had been alone and caught off guard. Extremely vulnerable. By rights, he should have ended it all then. Not that I relished in that idea, but it would have made more sense than threatening me, beating me, and bolting.

Sighing, I looked down at the spiral notebook I had found in a kitchen drawer. With everything going on, my mind was spinning relentlessly, and the only way to quiet the noise was to write it all down. What I had discovered was that I was writing could potentially help other victims of domestic violence. My story may be someone else’s, and I felt I had the means to see it published. I still had contacts in the journalism world, and if I reached out, I knew doors would open.

Biting my lip, I crossed out a word and replaced it with something more compelling. I was still sore, my eye no longer swollen but an ugly blue and purple with hints of yellow as it began to heal. I had spent the last three nights curled against Lance, trying hard to smother my face in his chest as I awoke from nightmares of Jake’s eyes burning with rage.

Lance had become more stoic. His laughter had faded, and he spent more time either in the basement cleaning guns or making rounds around the property trying to find Jake’s bolt holes. He knew Jake was nearby and it was driving him crazy that he hadn’t made his move yet.

Lifting my eyes again to the large picture window, I had to bite back a smile. Lance had refused to touch me sexually since the incident at Fozzy’s, and while I understood, all I really wanted was his body inside of mine. I felt alone and bereft, spending my time either writing at the dining table or pacing the floors of the house. It felt unfair that I had only been with Lance once, and then was immediately cut off. This morning when I woke up alone, hearing the shower running, I decided I could take it no longer. Sneaking downstairs to the garage, I left a present for Lance on his bike.

The anticipation was killing me but imaging the look on Lance’s face kept me amused for hours.

Bending my head to continue writing, I heard Lance’s footsteps stomping on the stairs long before I saw him. I quelled my smile, trying to appear nonchalant, keeping my focus on describing the first time I met my bodyguard.

“Blair,” he growled, coming up behind me. He was in jeans and combat boots, with a white t-shirt stretching across his massive chest. He had his hair tied up on top of his head in a double bun due to the length, and my mouth watered. He looked like a damn buffet.

“Hm?” I innocently peeked up at him over my shoulder.

Dangling from his finger was the barely there g-string I had left on the handlebar of his motorcycle. “Oh there it is! I was wondering where those went.” Reaching up to take them, I smiled at him, batting my eyelashes. “Thank you for finding them.”

Before my hand could take the underwear from him, Lance lifted them higher, leaving me grasping at air. His glare set my blood on fire and my bare pussy began to weep for him. “Are you wearing any panties?”

His husky tone almost made me lose my mind, but I continued to smile sweetly at him, playing the game. “How can I be wearing panties if you are holding them, silly?

Another growl boomed from his chest. “I bought you more than one pair.”

Nodding, I slowly pushed back the chair, allowing him time to move as I stood up. The gray sweatpants I was wearing hung dangerously low on my hips and I purposefully wore a thin black tank top with no bra. “You did buy me more than one pair, but you said those were your favorite.”

“Blair,” he warned. “You are poking the bear.”

I resisted making a joke about him poking me instead. Running my hands up his chest and to his shoulders, I played with the hair on the back of his neck, looking up at him. “Lance, I need you.”

I felt him freeze beneath my hands. His eyes roved my face, taking in every expression and analyzing the nasty bruise that covered half of my face. “Baby, you know I’d do anything for you, but I can’t risk hurting you.” His hand came up and brushed down my hair to my back. “Just imagining you alone in that alley with Hager, scared and in pain, makes me want to rip and tear everything in sight.”

His teeth clentched and his balled his fist against my skin. I could feel the tension radiating from him.

“You won’t hurt me,” I reassured him, pressing kisses against his chest. He leaned down, burying his nose between my neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply as he hauled my body closer to his. I could feel Lance’s erection against my stomach, hot and heavy, and my whole body went pliant.

For a moment, I thought he would capitulate, but suddenly he reared back, taking a large step backwards out of my hands. “Fuck, Blair! You’ve got to stop! Right now I want to ram my cock down your throat and hold you there! I want to pin your face against the wall and nail into you from behind! I want to shove my fingers in your pussy and make you shake on them! I can’t do those things, Blair! Everywhere I want to put my hands or my cock, you are sore or bruised. I won’t hurt you, ever. I made that promise to you, and nothing will make me break that promise. Not even you!”

My body felt as if it had been hit by a Mack truck. I wanted all of the things Lance had just described. My nipples were hard against the tank top, my pussy freely flowing, begging for him, and my mouth watered with the taste of him. Simultaneously, my heart was breaking. I desperately needed Lance. I wished being held by him every night was enough, but it just wasn’t. I needed primal reassurance, I needed to feel alive and wanted. It was Hell to get something and then have it ripped away.

Tears pooled in my eyes and I didn’t even try to hide them. Looking up at Lance, I could see from his expression there was no arguing with him. “Well, it seems it’s over before it really even started. Fine. I’ll go move my stuff back into my room.”

His stern expression didn’t change, but I caught sight of his hands shaking. “You are pissed because I won’t fuck you?”

If he would have physically slapped me, it would have hurt less. “Fuck you, Archer.” Turning, I gathered my notebook and pen and moved to swoop past him.

Lance’s hand caught my arm and swung me around. “I told you to call me Lance,” he growled.

Defiant and hurt, I glared at him. “Earn it.”

He released me as if I had burned him. “I didn’t know you were a petulant child, Blair.”

Huffing, I continued making my way up the stairs. “Keep the panties, Archer. Maybe your next assignment will look good in them too.”

I reached the second floor landing just in time to hear Archer roar behind me. His heavy footfalls pounded up the stairs behind me and I yelped, dropping my notebook and scurrying to my bedroom. He was right on my heels.

“I’m gonna spank your ass so hard, Blair, I swear to god,” he yelled, his body crowding mine as I threw open the door, both of us spilling into the room.

Against my back, I felt Lance gasp. My brain seemed to short circuit, refusing to register what I was seeing. Slowly, the color red seeped into my brain, and I took a deep breath, only to realize I had been screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are enjoying this series so far. Leave me a note of what you think!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! I'm back with another update! Please let me know what you think :-)

Red lilies covered every available surface, some in pots and other in clear vases. Nightstands, the bed, the dresser, most of the floor. And where there weren’t flowers, there were petals. Most were crushed and bruised, scattered carelessly. Some vases were knocked over, spilling water or soil. What could have been romantic instead looked chaotic and ominous. It was a cruel mockery of a romantic gesture, one I had only seen in movies before this.

The overpowering sent of my once favorite flower sent me backwards, crashing into Lance. Wrapping his arms around me, he turned, depositing me behind him before he stepped into the room. Watching his black boots cover the red petals on the floor had me gasping for air and feeling nauseous.

“Someone has been in here,” he muttered. He wasn’t speaking about the flowers. That was obvious. His eyes were trained on the middle of the bed where the sheets and petals were rumpled. My heart squeezed in my chest. I was a stickler for domestic etiquette. This wasn’t my house, so when I began sleeping in Lance’s bed, I had washed my sheets and put fresh ones on my bed. I hadn’t been in there since.

“How?” I asked. Our argument downstairs seemed trivial compared to the knowledge that someone, and we both knew who, had gotten into the house while we were both there.

Lance turned, running his hands over the windows and then the sliding glass doors that lead to the balcony. He cursed under his breath. “It’s cut. The line to the alarm is cut.” Frustration clouded his voice and his face was stone. “I should have added cameras up here too.”

I wrapped my arms around my middle, desperate for the hair-raising sensation on my body to go away. Sunlight streamed through the glass, illuminating the sick bastardization in front of me. “It’s so high up, though.”

Reaching to the top of the dresser, Lance picked up a card near a pot of red lilies that looked like it hadn’t been watered in weeks. “How did he carry these up here?” he muttered to himself.

My brain was spinning, trying to apply logic to this terrifying scenario. “What is that?” I asked him, leaning against the door. My legs were weak and I desperately wanted to sink down on the bed, but there was no way I was going to step one more foot into that room.

Flipping the card over so he could read the back, Lance’s expression hardened more. “A love note.” A sound of protest welled my in my throat, and he turned to look at me. “Oh, Baby,” he crooned, crossing the floor to haul me against his body.

My head swam with emotions. From loving Lance, to fighting with him, to sheer terror, I felt exhausted and ready to hide in a closet until that asshole Jake Hager could be found. Burying my hands and face in Lance’s t-shirt, I tried to find my courage.

“What does it say?”

“It doesn’t matter, Blair.”

I steeled myself. Lance’s whole personality was about protecting people. But I wanted to be his equal, and that meant I couldn’t hide. Lifting my head, I met his eyes. “Tell me.”

Lance watched me for a moment, his eyes roving my face for any sign I was going to start screaming. He wasn’t far off. I felt as if I was mentally shoving the door closed again my inner damsel in distress. “You know I need to know.”

He was silent for a moment before handing me the card. I took a deep breath before I looked down to read it.

**_Soon, I said_ **

**_How soon, you wondered_ **

**_Soon, I promised_ **

**_Are you wanting me, B? Desperate for my touch?_ **

**_The red on your lip Reminded me of your lilies_ **

****

My stomach twisted, but I forced my hand to turn the card over to read the rest. My nose was still sore from Jake’s fist, and the memory of blood in my mouth made me quake. It wasn’t the first time Jake Hager had made me bleed. I hoped it would be the last, though.

**_He can hold you tight but you are MINE_ **

**_I See you have finally learned to listen_ **

**_Do As You Are Told_ **

**_I taught you well_ **

**_Home is missing you_ **

**_And I’ll See You Soon_ **

****

Even knowing my hand was shaking, I reread both sides. “He seems scattered. He starts off with one thought or idea and then the jumps to another. And what is with all the weird capitalization?” Jake was a brilliant man, quick with facts and statistics. He could name the top ten weapons on the market, and off-market too, listing them by efficiency and output. I remembered hearing him speak to his apocalypse buddies and how it would make me nauseous as they debated which could produce a higher body count.

His ability to become one with nature always astounded me. Jake had infinite patience, and I mentioned to him once that it seemed as if he willed animals to him while hunting. He had scoffed at me and said it was just training. Jake had no problems waiting, was a master strategist, and was flexible. He was a nightmare.

Lance took the card from me and flung it across the room. “He’s ramping up, Blair. I need to get the cameras on a central line and fix the alarms.” Gripping my hand, he pulled me from the room, closing the door behind us. Looking down at me, he softened a little. “I don’t have time to clean the flowers up. I’d do it for you, Baby, but they are low on the list.”

His willingness to keep me from uncomfortable situations warmed my heart. Reaching up, I put my hand on his cheek. “I can do it. But you’re right, they aren’t important right now. I can help you, though. It makes zero sense for you to be running in and out of the house to check cameras on the monitor. Let me do that.”

Covering my hand with his, he pressed a kiss to my palm. “We still need to talk about that fight we had.”

I felt a flush rise to my skin and I cast my eyes down to his chest, reaching back to pull at the end of my ponytail. “It seems like a lifetime ago already.”

“Let’s focus on getting you out of this alive. We can deal with panties and assignments later. But Blair,” he trailed off, causing me to look up at him. “You won’t be getting those panties back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm.....Jake's kinda losing it a little....


	20. Chapter 20

While Lance fixed and checked the alarms on the doors and windows, I tossed on a hoodie and made my way down to the basement. The house was built into the side of the mountain, and the basement was cool. French doors opened out to the garage that housed Lance’s bike, a side by side ATV, and various tools. Looking around the basement, I found Lance’s arsenal on a work table near the washer and dryer.

Guns, knives, grenades, and belts of bullets were lined neatly in a row by size. My hand shook has I trailed my fingers over the weapons, reality sinking in just a little bit more. Lance always had a handgun on him, one usually tucked into the small of his back, and the other on his ankle. But this? This was sobering. He was preparing for war. Blueprints of the house were on a corkboard with handwritten notes and on a table across the room, boxes of unused cameras were in various stages of being unpacked. I wondered where the alarm set ups were.

A large white box with my name on it was tucked against the wall on the table. Picking it up, I found it was heavier than it looked. Carrying it over to the washing machine, the only flat unused surface in the space, I opened it up.

Inside, lined up neatly, were the most beautiful throwing knives I had ever seen. There had to be at least 30 knives, stainless steel, light enough to be lethal, but heavy enough to do some damage. Black and tapered to a deadly point, the handles were wrapped with thick cord for a comfortable grip, and the hilt ended in a circle wide enough to put fingers through.

As I picked one up to test the weight in my hand, I sighed. My adoration of throwing knives came about accidently. I was not formally trained. Being trapped in Jake’s house, I had to use what was on hand. He had one throwing knife, a relic he treasured that I didn’t know the origin of. When he would leave to go on his excursions, locking me in the house, I’d sneak into his war room and take it, terrified of the guns lining the walls. Jake would count the bullets before and after his trips, as if making sure I wasn’t hoarding them for a break out attempt. The knife was the only untraceable item I could get away with using.

Finding a spot as target practice was difficult. The only space I could find was the pantry. It seemed silly thinking about it now, but Jake was a stickler for traditional roles in a relationship. Women cooked, men protected. I used that to my advantage, knowing he never went into the pantry. Every day he’d leave, I’d clear the pantry out of all food items except a box of cereal to use as a target, leave the door open, and practice. If it hit the wall inside the pantry, no problem. I’d just arrange the larger items to cover it up when I restocked the small room the day before he came back.

It was a desperate idea, one that worked. I became proficient and I knew I could do some damage in self-defense. The only weakness I could see was that I was not confident in close contact. I was unsure if I’d be able to slice someone, or where to jab them to maximize the blood loss if needed. The finger holes on the knives in the box were used for that purpose. They could spin quickly around a forefinger and be gripped in an instant as soon as an opening was found.

Lance hadn’t mentioned getting me knives, but with my name on the box, there was no doubt they were for me.

Turning, I scanned the room. Not finding what I was looking for, I made my way into the garage and began opening and closing drawers on the work bench. Wires, nuts and bolts, odds and ends crowded each drawer until I pulled open the last one, finding what I was looking for. Electrical tape.

Returning to the basement, I closed the box of knives and carried it with me back upstairs, stopping at various places in the house. I taped the knives to the foyer table, along the banister on each level of the staircase, two in the kitchen, three in the living room and dining room, and more in each bedroom.

If Jake Hager got into the house and past Lance, he was in for the fight of his life. I wasn’t going with him quietly.

I kept four knives free. I’d carry those with me, keeping them on my body or in my hands to get my comfort level back. It was a shame I didn’t have a chance to show Lance what I was capable of. Seeing the stark appreciation in his eyes would have been sexy.

My gaze focused on the flowers in my room. The last stop on the tour of knife placement had led me back here, and I hardened my backbone. They were just flowers. Yes, they triggered unhappy memories associated with Jake, but right now, they were just a part of a mess. I could do this.

An idea formed in my mind. Walking over to the sliding glass doors, I opened it to walk out onto the balcony, hearing the chirping sound of the alarm begin.

“It’s just me, Lance,” I called, not knowing exactly where he was, but knowing he was nearby. Leaning over the railing, I found him two stories down, his hands on his hips glaring at me, wires wrapped around his right hand.

“What are you doing outside?” he demanded. “Jake could have a rifle pointed at your head right now!”

I shook my head. “He wants me alive if he can, remember? Um, look, I want to clean these lilies up but the idea of carrying them through the house makes me sick. I’m going to toss them over the side and I’ll come down and clean them up from there, ok?”

Lance was peering up at me from under his baseball cap, eyes squinting hard as he searched my face. “You are going to toss his romantic idea over that railing? That’s a slap in the face.”

Biting my lip, I liked that Lance and I were on the same wavelength. “Offensive, and another ‘fuck you’.”

He chuckled, looking down at the wires in his hands. “You sure do like to stir up the hornet’s nest, baby. Ok. Do whatever you need to do. I’m going to be working down here so don’t hit me.”

I giggled like a little girl. Throwing things from high heights would never not be fun. If anyone said different, they were lying.

Dancing back inside, I didn’t hesitate to grab the nearest pot and heave it through the door. It sailed through the air, arcing at the perfect moment, dropping from sight over the railing and to the ground.

“BLAIR!” Lance raged.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry! I needed a freebie!”

“I swear to God,” I heard him curse.

Forcing myself to calm down and be methodical, I continued cleaning. The flowers with pots went over as a whole, ones with vases were removed and dropped off the balcony and water dumped in the bathroom sink. At the end of an hour, there were twenty three empty vases, dying petals, and mounds of soil and dirt scattered through the room. Much more manageable.

“Done with the flower bombs,” I called to Lance. Looking over the railing I grinned at the mess he stood in the middle of. “I’m going to finish cleaning up in here and then I’ll come down and get that.”

He shook his head. “I got this. Meet me in the office. I want to check the camera angles.”

I blew him a kiss and turned to go back inside. My mood had lifted miraculously. I felt empowered with the knives against my skin, and the knowledge that I was the only one who knew where the others were hidden.

I stripped the bed and swept up the petals and dirt. I had no idea what to do with the vases, so I stashed them in the closet out of sight. Sighing, I stood and scanned the room. I had done the best I could. Water stains from the vases marred the wood of the dresser and nightstand, but there was nothing I could do about that.

My eyes settled on the bed. How long had Jake laid there? There was a small part of me that was suddenly thankful that Lance hadn’t touched me sexually because of my injuries. The knowledge that Jake would have heard my cries of passion made me feel ill. Instead, he heard my screams of fear from nightmares.

I wondered if he got pleasure from that. In my mind’s eye, I could see Jake laying there, his hands behind his head, smiling up at the ceiling in the middle of all those petals. Slamming the door on that thought, I whirled around and left the room.


	21. Chapter 21

Sitting in the office chair, I restlessly used my toe to gently turn left and then right, back and forth. In front of me was a large computer monitor with six boxes displaying. Each box was a camera’s view, and I could see Lance in the upper right hand corner, fiddling with something in his hands. He looked up, directly in the camera, and I felt his gaze all the way to my core. His presence still thrilled me, even as he worked, his focus absolute, concentration sharp.

Unclipping a radio from his belt, he brought it to his lips. _“How’s that?”_

My radio on the desk crackled with his deep voice. Lifting it to my lips, I pressed the button to respond. “Still fuzzy.”

I watched as he grabbed a step ladder and climbed up one step, putting his handsome face super close to the lens before dipping out of sight. The picture got worse, and then better as he adjusted the focus. “There. That’s perfect.”

He came back into view and spoke into the radio. _“Can you see all the way down the driveway? Do I need to move it?”_

Stupidly I shook my head before remembering he couldn’t see me. “No, don’t move it. I can see the driveway and the ditches on either side.”

He gave a short nod and climbed down. This had been going on for most of the afternoon. Lance checked the cameras, I observed and directed, and he made the adjustments as needed. There was one camera left, one Lance still needed to hook up, so I grabbed my notepad and pen and scribbled down what had happened that morning so it was still fresh in my mind.

Every once in a while I would lift my head to check on Lance’s progress. I could see him criss crossing the yard around the back of the house, his footing sure as he navigated the slight slope towards the valley. His hat shaded his eyes and gloves cradled his hands. At some point, he had removed his shirt, and I almost dropped my pen.

Lance Archer was breath taking. His barrel chest had a slight sheen of sweat covering his skin, his broad shoulders gleamed in the early fall sunshine, and his long hair streamed down his muscled back. There was something about watching a man work that set fire to my veins. But our fight that morning lingered. Something had changed. Maybe it was me. Lance seemed the same, but I felt different.

I was tired of being frightened. If Jake was coming for me, I wanted it done. It was insane, but the waiting was grating on my nerves. There was no way for Lance and I to figure out who we were together outside of this situation. I felt stagnant and unsure. What was next for me if I survived this? Would I stay? Work at Fozzy’s with Jericho and the boys for the rest of my life?

I glanced down at the notebook in my lap. I loved writing. It made my heart sing to create pictures in a person’s mind with words. Telling a story took me on adventures I never dreamed of. I was sad that I had allowed Jake to take that from me.

And what about Lance? Would he go on to his next assignment and leave me behind? Would he stay if I chose to? Would he change jobs if he did stay? What if once we got through this, the adrenaline faded and there was no spark between us anymore?

_“Are you wearing any panties?”_

I barked out a laugh as the radio crackled in the silent office. Lance was still in the backyard, the radio in his hand and a camera in the other. It appeared he was ready to mount the last one. “No, you told me I couldn’t have them back,” I replied.

He made a show of groaning and throwing his head back. _“I said it before, Blair, you own other panties.”_

I couldn’t help but smile. “Where’s the fun in that?”

I watched him grin on the monitor. _“Lines are run and I’m headed into the trees. Keep an eye on me. If I fall, 911 can’t help me.”_

I frowned. “Well that crashes the mood. Great job, Lance.”

Lance made his way to the treeline where a large ladder was already leaning against one of the trunks. He climbed, his steps sure, but his size and weight made me hold my breath. If the ladder slipped out from under him…..I couldn’t finish the thought. He was nearly twenty feet off the ground on a slope. He couldn’t afford any mistakes.

I noticed the gun at the back of his waist tucked into his pants and a drill in his back pocket. Rolling my eyes, I lifted the radio. “Do you think you could have stashed that drill in any other dumb place? You fall from there and the bit is going right into your ass.”

On camera, he lifted his hand in the air and flicked me the bird. I laughed but watched him closely. Installing the camera to the tree trunk wasn’t overly difficult. It just needed to be done in stages. First stage: pre-drill holes in the tree where the base of the camera would go. Second stage: attach camera to tree with bolts. Third stage: hook the auxiliary line from the house to the camera. Fourth stage: adjust as needed.

The cameras were battery operated and ran for 48 hours. The line centralized all the cameras to the monitor in front of me. If that failed, or was sabotaged, the camera would still run, sending the information to Lance’s phone. The issue with that was, he could only view each camera feed one at a time.

That was useless when Jake could come from any direction.

Lance climbed down the ladder and picked the camera up off the box he had laid it on top of. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw tree bark explode, raining over his back and neck right where his head had been a moment before.

I cursed, dropping my notebook on the floor as I leaned closer to the monitor. Lance had crouched low to the ground, whirling around towards something I couldn’t see. I scanned each camera view, desperately trying to see anything I use to help him. Lance moved, scurrying across the yard low to the ground, gaining entrance to the house with his gun in his hand through the garage.

Flying out of the chair and out of the office, I pounded down the stairs. “Lance?” I called. “Lance, are you ok?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” I heard him respond. As I rounded the banister in the foyer, he was coming up from the basement, a rifle in his hands. He must have caught it up as he made his way through the basement. Pulling his hat from his head he stalked through the house towards the large picture window in the dining room. “Stay away from the windows,” he growled.

I was taken back to the first night we met, and marveled at how we had come full circle. “Was it just one shot? There’s no sound on the cameras, I couldn’t hear.” My voice was shaking, but I planted myself behind the kitchen island to use as a shield if I needed to.

Lance nodded, his back against the wall as he loaded the rifle, his eyes scanning the trees in the distance. “Keep low, Blair.”

I crouched immediately, keeping my head up where I could see him. Lance’s eyes quartered the area, his mouth slashed in a firm line as he concentrated.

“It was a warning shot,” I ventured.

Lance kept his gaze outside, scanning in every direction. “What does that mean?”

I hesitated only a moment. Lance was in his element, and I wasn’t. This was new to me. But I knew Jake better than anyone on the planet. I just had to be confident in that. “Lance, if Jake wanted to shoot you, he would have done it when you were up on that ladder. It would have been one shot, and it would have been the end of it. He doesn’t miss.”

He cast a quick glance in my direction, and then swiftly crossed the room to the other wall, searching the other side of the yard through the windows.

“Instead, he waited until you were on the ground and moving. It was a warning shot. He wanted you to know he’s watching, he knows the precautions you are taking, and he’s telling you, none of it matters. Look,” I stood, exasperated. “He got into the house without either of us knowing about it.”

Lance’s head whipped towards me, his hair flying over his shoulder to land on his chest. “Get down!” he barked at me, and I squeaked, ducking back behind the counter.

Shaking at Lance’s exclamation, I continued, this time sitting on the floor, leaning against the island, my arms around my knees. “He’s talking to you, can you hear him?” Because I could. I could hear Jake’s voice in my head, mocking me, telling me how ridiculous I was for thinking I had the skill to stop him, to try to save myself. Jake always said more with actions than words.

I didn’t hear him move, but suddenly, Lance was looming over me. He crouched down, bringing the gun across his bare chest. “What aren’t you telling me?”

How could I explain it so that he understood? Tactically speaking, Lance could probably hold Jake off. But Jake wasn’t going to come in with guns blazing.

“He’s planning an extraction.”

I could see the wheels spinning in Lance’s head, putting together everything he had learned about Jake and what he’d seen so far. “What makes you think that?”

I bit my lip as Lance slid down to sit beside me. We were shielded by the kitchen island, but his finger was still hovering over the trigger and he continued to look around the space as if Jake was going to pop out of the garbage disposal. Admittedly, I felt a warmth spread through me. Lance was not dismissing me or my knowledge. He was going to hear me out.

“Everything he’s done, he’s been testing the waters. Bugging my house to see if either of us would find it, which you did, throwing a brick through the window to see your response, getting into my house undetected with us there to put flower petals in my underwear drawer, to setting the place on fire. Everything he has done has caused one or both of us to react. He’s been herding us this whole time.”

Lance’s eyebrows furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt me.

I was right, and I could feel it. Everything was coming together. “Before Fozzy’s, before we slept together, Jake was content to just push our buttons. I bet everything I have left that he knows we had sex. The windows may be tinted and reflective, but unless the house is soundproof,” I shrugged, indicating I was aware how he had made me scream. “How many times did I tell you he was a jealous man? He pushed us away from the police and friends and into the mountains with no neighbors and less resources because I threw a fit and challenged him. Jake beat me because I had sex with you!”

I was out of breath now, sobs catching in my chest, but I forced them back. Pleading with Lance with my eyes, I begged him to understand. “From the beginning, he wanted me back. That’s his Plan A. And he will keep to that plan until he succeeds.” I bit my lip and tugged on my ponytail, nerves making themselves known. “Alive or in a body bag. That’s what he said to me. He’s going to come after me, and you are going to get caught in the crossfire.”

Lance expression hardened and he cupped my cheek with his hand. “That’s what I’m here for, Blair. I’m here to give you a chance to get away.”

Everything in my body protested that statement. My stomach knotted fiercely and my vision swam as tears gathered and spilled down my cheeks. “I’m not willing to accept that. There is no other acceptable outcome than the two of us getting out of this stupid, fucked up situation alive.”

Lance wiped my tears away with his thumbs, his expression full of sadness. “If I go down, I’m taking him with me. Those are the cards we are dealt.”

“Lance,” I breathed, desperate to change his mind.

He smirked at me, that smirk that used to infuriate yet intrigue me, and I felt my heart thud in my chest. “Trust me, I’ll do everything in my power to come out of this unscathed. There are so many things I want to do to you, baby. We never did play with those toys you stashed in your underwear drawer.”

As I smothered a laugh through my tears, I playfully shoved at his bare chest. He was still cradling the gun in his lap, and tree bark covered his broad shoulders, but he looked just as handsome and sexy as ever. “Well you can thank Jake for that missed opportunity. I’m sure they are melted to my thongs now.”

“Lucky thongs,” Lance muttered. He gave me a kiss on my forehead and popped up into a crouch. Slinking over to the wall, he flipped a switch and the security blinds automatically began pulling down across the windows. When they were fully lowered, he returned to me and held out a hand.

I allowed him to pull me to my feet. The room was dim, the sun was beginning its descent from the sky and all the house lights were off, but I could still see Lance’s face. He seemed resolute. Whatever was about to happen, I had to believe in him.

I dusted a bit of bark off his shoulders. “You better take a shower.”

Lance hesitated. “Yeah, ok. I want you nearby, though.”

My breath caught in my chest. Immediately my mind went to showering with Lance, what that would be like. Standing in front of him, my back to his chest as he shampooed my hair. Turning so that I could run soapy hands over his chest and shoulders. Lifting to my tiptoes, offering my lips for his kiss. Lance reaching down to cup my ass, lifting me into his arms where I would wrap my legs around his waist and settle my core over his….

“Grab a book or something and hang out on the staircase. I’ll leave the door cracked so I can hear you.”

My shower scene evaporated like I had gotten dunked in cold water. I felt my face flush. He really wasn’t going to touch me again until this was all over. Disbelief and desperation swept through me. “I’m not going to sit on the hard ass stairs while you shower, Lance. I’ll be in the office watching the cameras.”

Embarrassed, I swiftly turned away. I had to force myself not to stomp down the hallway. Inside, I felt like pouting and throwing a fit, but our argument earlier proved that would get me no where. And where I wanted to be was in Lance’s arms. I felt safe and secure there.

“What just happened?” I heard Lance mutter to himself.

Damn him for being a professional.


	22. Chapter 22

I slept alone in Lance’s room. Upon opening my eyes as the first rays of sunshine peak over the trees and through the window, I realized he never came to bed, and I felt bereft. Laying there, watching the birds flit around outside and the day get brighter, I had to come to terms with what was going on around me.

The end was nearing, I could feel it. I wasn’t sure what that end would look like, but it was like a weight in the middle of my chest. Jake would come, there was no doubt about that, and either I would stand tall at the end of it, or I wouldn’t. Turning my head into Lance’s pillow, I inhaled deeply, trying to hold him to me somewhere in my memory. We were slipping apart at a time when we needed to band together.

I wasn’t prepared for the professional side of Lance Archer. I was used to the suave, funny, charming biker. That was who I fell for. With his stupid bandana on his head, sunglasses, blue jeans, and t-shirt, straddling his motorcycle looking like a dangerous bad boy who could take me to Heaven and keep me there. Now I was dealing with a different side of him. Sure, he was still charming, but he flipped the switch and became cold and detached at a moment’s notice. His eyes had turned ice cold when I was used to the heat and passion, always looking like he wanted to toss me over his shoulder and carry me off to have his wicked way. I didn’t know how to deal with both sides of him, they seemed like two different people. And truthfully, I was done with two-faced men. Jake had fooled me once, Lance would not be the second one.

Sighing, I tossed back the covers and grabbed a change of clothes from the small dresser against the wall. I took a quick shower, trying to push back my feelings. I was getting soft, and I knew I needed to harden up. If Lance wanted to be iceman, I could be an ice queen.

Lance was downstairs at the kitchen table cleaning his guns like he had every single morning since we had arrived at his house that wasn’t his house. I grabbed a cup of coffee and leaned my hip against the counter, eyeballing him over the rim of the mug. His hair was down, long and sleek down his back and he was wearing a pair of faded jeans with a button up shirt. His chest was exposed, as if he had started buttoning the shirt and got halfway before he was distracted. All I wanted was to wrap my arms around his waist, feel him pull me close, and lay my head against him.

I looked around the kitchen. He hadn’t made breakfast, which was unusual. He loved to cook, and if he was up before me, and he normally was, he always made a large spread. “Did you eat?” I asked.

Lance nodded. “Had a breakfast sandwich.”

I saw no evidence of that at all. I wasn’t sure if he was lying to me or if he’d cleaned the kitchen so well that it looked exactly as it had the previous night. A chasm expanded in my heart. We were pulling away from each other as fast as we came together. It was possible that if we had known each other longer, we could have talked it out, aired our grievances and worked together to fix them. But we just didn’t know how.

I wasn’t hungry, so I took my mug and sat down on the couch with my notepad and pen, scribbling down thoughts and observances. I didn’t know what was to become of everything I wrote down, but I had learned a long time ago, it was better to write it down and not use it than to not write it down and struggle to remember it.

“Are you still sore?” Lance asked. His back was to me, his head down over a rifle as he put it back together. The clicking and ratcheting sounds made my skin crawl.

I was mildly shocked to realize I felt fine. “No.”

Silence filled the air again. There was an underlying sense of tension and awkwardness that I wasn’t sure how to diffuse. Sighing, I tilted my head to watch his movements. He was sure and adept, his knowledge of the guns in front of him showing starkly. Lance wasn’t nervous handling them like I would have been.

“Archer, did I do something wrong?”

His back stiffened and he stilled. “Back to that, are we?” His voice was cold and distant.

“It was a slip of the tongue, don’t look too far into it,” I protested.

Turning his head so that he could look at me over his shoulder, he sneered. “That’s your entire M.O, Blair. Don’t look to far into it.”

Confused, I refused to argue any further. It was clear we were on different paths now, and I wasn’t willing to fight with him and Jake at the same time. Nothing was going to get solved without a blow out fight, and I just didn’t have the energy for that, so I stayed silent.

“I’ll be in the office,” he muttered, standing so fast the chair scraped the floor with a horrendous screech. Gathering the weapons from the table, Lance was gone before I could blink.


	23. Chapter 23

I smelled him before I saw him. The scent of pine and gun powder awoke me from my nap on the couch just as a calloused hand covered my mouth and nose. My eyes flew open, and Jake’s wide and crazed eyes met mine, sheer glee in his expression.

“Make a sound, and I’ll suffocate you here, understand?” His voice was low and I could barely hear him over the thudding of my heart.

His blond hair fell down onto his forehead making him look disheveled as he hovered over me. He was wearing full camo pants and jacket from his Army days and a black t-shirt underneath. Two straps crossed his chest, one attached to the rifle that was slung across his back and the other full of bullets that looked deadly enough to slice through concrete. I knew he had other weapons I couldn’t see.

I forced myself to nod, and he moved his hand lower to free my nose so I could breathe. Where was Lance? Still in the office? I glanced to the windows to try to determine how long I had slept. The sun was high in the sky, beaming happily. I hadn’t napped for long. Why didn’t Lance see Jake on the cameras? The alarms didn’t chirp, either. How had he gotten in?

Satisfaction creeped across Jake’s face. “Oh, Blair. There isn’t any place you could go that I wouldn’t find you. I promised you, didn’t I? I promised I would come for you.”

The hand that wasn’t pressed against my mouth gripped my arm, hauling me upright, all the way to my feet in one solid yank. I felt as if my shoulder had come out of socket, pain shooting down to my fingers, but I kept silent. Cursing myself, I realized I had forgotten my knives upstairs in Lance’s room. Rookie mistake, and I was furious. My hands were free. I could have stuck Jake multiple times by now and make a run for it. But I was defenseless.

“Ready to go home, honey?” Jake’s voice was sweet, but there was an underlying thread of menace that made me shiver.

Flicking my eyes to his, I glared. If he thought I was going easily, he was dead wrong.

He smirked, and my stomach twisted. Lance’s smirk was sexy and handsome. Jake’s was cruel and sick. “I’ll kill him, Blair. You are mine, and I’ve come to take you home. You’ve had your fun, but I’m a forgiving man. If you make this hard, I’ll kill him and bring him home with us for you to remember him by.”

I inhaled sharply, fear finally settling in my bones. Nothing could happen to Lance. I couldn’t stand it. But I also couldn’t go with Jake. My brain was spinning, trying to come up with a plan. Self-preservation warred with the need to keep Lance alive. The world needed him. Someone, somewhere, needed him as much as I did. I couldn’t risk making dumb mistakes.

Jake tucked me under his arm, reaching around my shoulders to keep his hand in place over my mouth. His dominant hand swung the rifle around to his front and he gripped it, his finger on the trigger.

As he slowly walked me through the living room, I kept my hands down and to my sides. I didn’t know why he hadn’t tied me up or gagged me, but it was going to be his error. We passed the coffee table and the knife taped underneath it, the club chair with the knife in the cushions, and past the dining room where I had stashed multiple weapons. It was agony to know they were so close yet out of my reach.

Our steps were light as I was barefoot and Jake was skilled at not making any sound. As we entered the hallway my eyes scanned the space, trying to find anything I could use to get Lance’s attention without getting myself killed. The space wasn’t wide enough for the two of us to walk side by side and still allow Jake enough room to hold his rifle correctly. Naturally, he stepped sideways, bringing me slightly behind him as he slid down the walls.

My eyes caught a painting hanging low, and I made my choice. We were directly in front of the arched opening that lead into the kitchen and I had to take the chance. Without hesitating, adrenaline surging, I reared back, slamming Jake’s arm against the picture on the wall, causing it to fall to the wooden floor with a crash and simultaneously loosen Jake’s grip on my mouth. Stomping as hard as I could on his foot like I wanted to wasn’t going to do much damage as he was wearing combat boots, but his knees were exposed, so I went low, ramming my knee into the back of his, causing him to lose his balance and pitch forward.

“Lance!” I screamed as I disentangled myself from Jake as he went down. Instead of dashing through the kitchen door like I had thought, I bolted back to the dining room. Jake was blocking the doorway into the kitchen and would have caught my legs if I had tried to jump over him. “Lance he’s here!” I screamed again, intent on causing as much noise as I could until Lance arrived.

Scrambling to the dining room, I upended two chairs and crawled under the table, collecting knives as I went. Yanking my hair tie out of my hair, I rolled it up my arm to my bicep, sliding two knives there to hold them against my skin. I kept one in my hand.

I could hear pounding footsteps on the stairs, and I knew Lance was coming. Jake was already on his feet and coming my way, gun drawn and ready. I was banking on the fact that he wanted me alive if he could, and he wasn’t going to spray bullets at me, but I was still wary. He could change his mind at any moment, so I had to stay focused.

As Jake rounded the table, I scurried out the other side, dashing into the kitchen. Turning, the island between us, I palmed the knife in my hand and raised it, letting it go with near deadly accuracy. It sliced through the air, hurtling towards Jake so fast it was just a blur. At the last moment, he turned to the side. The blade didn’t sink into him as I had wanted, but it had left a nasty slice in his right shoulder.

“Fucking bitch!” he hissed. Blood immediately poured from the wound, dripping down his arm to his hand, making his trigger finger slippery.

I resisted collecting the knives in the kitchen as Jake stalked towards me. If I ended up back in this room, I would need them. Jake was rounding the island as I turned, running through the doorway and into the hallway just as Lance appeared, his handgun in his hand and a shotgun strapped to his back.

“Oh my God,” I sobbed, fear coming back up to the surface as I collided against his chest.

“Go, Blair!’ Lance demanded, setting me aside. “Run!”

My feet carried me quickly down the hall as I heard the two of them crash together, curses and fists hitting flesh echoing off the walls. My brain processed information quickly. I had to stay in the house, no matter how dangerous it was. Outside was a last resort. I was barefoot and without a jacket, with no weapons outside. Everything I needed was in the house, and that was where I would have to make my last stand.

Swiping the knife from the foyer table, I rounded the banister to the staircase in a fluid motion. My feet slapped against the wood, and I decided to leave the knives on the railing for the same reason I left the ones in the kitchen. I would need backups.

Reaching the second floor where the office and Lance’s bedroom were, I could hear grunts and things breaking downstairs. In Lance’s room, I grabbed a hoodie and my shoes, quickly donning them as I locked the door behind me. It wouldn’t hold Jake back, but it would give me a chance.

Muttering a curse, I remembered the knives on my arm and pulled one arm out of the hoodie to remove them and the hair tie. Sliding the knives up the sleeve at my wrist, I again used the hair tie to hold them in place, grabbing another off the dresser to throw my hair up, then fixed the hoodie.

Grabbing my phone off the nightstand, I quickly called the police department.

 _“9-1-1, what is your emergency?”_ a professional and calm sounding woman answered the phone.

“This is Blair Corrigian.” I was out of breath. “Jake Hager is here. Hurry! Tell the Captain that Jake Hager is here and he’s got guns!”

 _“Ma’am, where are you?”_ Keys on a keyboard clacked in the background.

“He knows where I am!” Hell, I didn’t even know where I was. “Hager been stalking me for months! The Captain knows! Please hurry!”

_“Ma’am…”_

I tossed the phone back onto the nightstand, leaving it connected, but I couldn’t plead with her anymore. I could hear slow, measured footsteps on the staircase coming my way. Lance would have called my name and run up those steps. It had to be Jake.

Reaching under the boxspring, I pulled out a knife to stash against my ankle in my sock. In the closet, I pulled another one from under a box and palmed it. I faced the door, my feet firmly planted and my arm cocked back. I was guessing at the aim, but all I needed was a chance to get out of the room. Hiding in Lance’s room was a risk I had to take. I needed shoes to run faster and to call 9-1-1. Now I was cornered, but I didn’t allow myself to panic.

Where was Lance? If Jake was sneaking up the stairs, that meant he had incapacitated Lance somehow. I hadn’t heard a gun go off, but Jake didn’t need bullets to kill someone. I couldn’t imagine Lance allowing Jake to get his arms around his thick neck though.

Forcing myself to mentally pull back from that road, I caught sight of a shadow under the door. I shifted, making sure I was ready. I would only have one chance at this.

The door splintered open as Jake’s foot crashed through it. As he rocked forward to plant his feet, I let the knife fly, watching with satisfaction as it pierced his chest on the right side, weakening his right arm further.

“Fuck!” he shouted, stumbling backwards, yanking the blade out of his chest and dropping it to the floor.

Snatching a knife from my sleeve, I ran forward, body checking his massive weight while he was off balance. It felt as if I had hit a brick wall going 60 mph, but I gripped the knife tightly and plunged it in his exposed belly over and over and over. Blood coated my hands, making my once sure grip slippery.

“Goddamn cunt!” Jake yelled, wrapping his arms around me in a bear hug. Looking up at him, my eyes locked onto his, I twisted the knife sharply.

Jake screamed, tossing me to the side like a sandbag. Crashing to the floor, I hit the corner of the wall with my forehead, my eyebrow busted open streaming blood into my eyes. Gasping at the pain, I dashed it aside with my hand. My vision was cloudy, but I forced myself to look over my shoulder. Jake was still on his feet, his hands clutching his stomach as blood streamed through his fingers.

He looked shocked, and I felt pleased in a dazed way. I had surprised him. I had skills he didn’t even fathom, and I wasn’t going to be the meek girl he had cowed before.


	24. Chapter 24

Slowly, Jake raised his head to look at me. Fury covered his face, his eyes burning with rage, and I knew my time was up. Scrambling to my feet, I saw out of the corner of my eye, Jake swing his rifle around to his front and his finger start squeezing the trigger before he even began aiming it.

Bullets flew around me as he sprayed the hall. Ducking and crying out, I all but threw myself down the stairs, rolling and sliding down each step. Each time I landed the breath got knocked out of me, and I felt ribs crack and bones twists with every revolution.

Coming to rest against the front door, I gasped in pain. My ears were ringing and blood streaked my face, but I knew I had to get up. The bullets had stopped, but I could feel Jake’s steps on the staircase more than I could hear them.

Forcing myself to my hands and knees, I crawled down the hallway and into the kitchen. I found Lance on the floor, his guns near his hands, groaning. Blood pooled on the floor under his head and I scrambled over to him.

“Lance?” I whispered. Picking up his head I rested it in my lap, peering down at him. My fingers came away with his blood on them, but I ignored it. Jake must have either pushed him against the counter or hit him with the butt of his gun. My body screamed in protest as I folded myself around Lance’s body, but I grit my teeth.

He moaned, trying to open his eyes.

“Lance, he’s coming. You have to get up.” I lifted my head to look around the room. Reaching with my extended fingers, I forced two of the drawers open and retrieved the knives stashed there. I tucked one in Lance’s hand, reassured when he gripped it tightly.

“Bait,” he whispered on a groan.

My brain flew through different scenarios of what he meant before I landed on the one that made the most sense. As his eyes finally opened, I shook my head. “No, absolutely not. Get up. Neither of us are bait. Come on.”

I tried to tug him up, but Lance was limp, his weight making it impossible for me to move him more than an inch. Why did he have to be so damn big? I moaned to myself.

“Blair.” Gently he reached up and ran a finger down my cheek to my chin weakly. “Kiss.”

He must have been extremely concussed if he was asking for a kiss after spending days pushing me away. But I couldn’t deny him. I could still hear Jake’s footsteps on the stairs, and I knew he was moving slowly and losing a lot of blood.

Dipping low, I pressed my lips to Lance’s, intending to just give him a peck before trying again to move him. Instead, Lance’s tongue swept into my mouth and I felt my body go to mush. Sinking lower, covering his upper body with mine as I held his bleeding head in my lap, I gave myself up to him. Tears gathered in my eyes and I used my teeth to tug at his lower lip. My hands found their way into his hair and I held onto him tightly.

As I pulled away, he blinked, his eyes cloudy. “Run, Blair. I’m ready.”

Trying to keep myself together, I had to make a choice. Hating myself, I nodded, agreeing to Lance’s plan, tears and blood streaking down my face. “Stay alive, do you hear me? Please, Lance.”

Brushing a soft kiss to his forehead, I pushed his handgun into his other hand and gently placed his head back on the floor. I scurried around the island to the dining room side, hiding and listening as Jake arrived in the doorway.

I knew what he saw. Lance laying in a pool of his own blood, flat on the floor spread eagle, a handgun in his hand. But he didn’t know about the knife tucked in Lance’s other hand, pressed against his thigh.

“Ha!” Jake chuckled, and I squeezed my eyes shut. “She left you too, huh? Yeah, she does that. Just up and disappears.”

I wasn’t sure if Lance was looking at Jake. If he was, I knew the cold expression that would be aimed at him. It could chill to the bone and promise retribution. Jake just had to get close enough to Lance for him to lash out.

Jake’s measured steps echoed on the tile floor, and I slid along the island, towards the entrance to the hallway in the living room. I blessed Lance for thinking of an open floor plan. Each room lead to the other, leaving me a clear way of escape as long as Jake was distracted.

“You know, I suppose I should thank you for keeping her in one place. Blair is a headstrong bitch, full of self-righteous anger. She needs a firm hand.” Jake stopped walking. “And a good hard fucking. It keeps her complacent. Did she tell you? Did she scream my name, Archer?”

“You know she didn’t,” Lance answered, his voice gravelly. “You hid in the room in all your pretty flowers and listened to me make love to her the way she deserves.”

My stomach knotted up and I closed my eyes again in despair. Why couldn’t Lance have just stayed quiet? Did he have to goad Jake?

I heard a click and my heart seized in my chest. “I’ll take it from here, Archer,” Jake sneered. Gunshots exploded in the small space and I clamped my hands over my mouth to keep from screaming, tears pouring from my eyes.

**_BANG_ **

**_BANG_ **

**_BANG_ **

**_BANG_ **

I was frozen. Lance had told me to run, but I couldn’t make my legs move. I couldn’t leave him to die alone. I pressed myself harder against the cabinets, silently sobbing.

“Fucking asshole,” Jake muttered. The sound of his gun clattering on top of the island told me he had put it down. “What the fu-.”

His voice trailed off as he grunted and shouted. Scuffling told me something was happening. Panic drove me to my feet and before I knew what I was doing I had swiped Jake’s gun off the counter and was pointing it as I rounded the island. It was no more than two seconds, but as I caught sight of the two men on the floor, my mouth dropped open.

Lance was on top of Jake, my knife in his hands and lodged in Jake’s throat. Lance dwarfed Jake in both size and strength, but Jake’s hands where pushing at Lance’s face as he gurgled, blood bubbling up from his mouth, streaming over his cheeks to the floor.

Lance’s expression was one of cold rage, all his weight pressing the knife through Jake’s neck, his teeth clenched and body shaking.

I saw Jake’s eyes dim, his hands slowly sliding off of Lance’s face as they dropped to the floor on either side of his head. In a final gasp, Jake Hager died with my knife in his throat and Lance holding the blade.

I collapsed on the floor, Jake’s gun skittering across the tile, as Lance crawled off of him to lean against the counter. His clothes were dotted with red, two in his stomach, one in his chest, and another on his thigh. “Oh my God,” I breathed, crawling to his side. I skirted Jake’s body, my hands reaching for Lance.

He pushed my hands away. “I can hear sirens. Go wait for the police outside.”

“I’m not leaving you,” I cried, trying to dodge his protesting hands. “Please let me help!”

“Blair, baby,” he sounded out of breath and exhausted. “I need you outside, away from this.”

I shook my head. “I’ve been in the middle of it since the beginning, I’m not leaving you now.” I pulled hand towels out of the drawers next to his head and tried to press them against his stomach to staunch the blood flow.

Exasperated, he caught my roving hands in his and pressed them to his chest. “Goddammit, Blair, listen to me! The cops are going to come in here guns drawn if no one meets them outside to tell them what happened. I’m in no mood to get shot by a cop today, Blair. Do as I say.”

I didn’t know if his logic was sound, all I could read in his expression was that he didn’t want me around. Nothing had changed. The job was over, he had already refused Jericho’s money, and it was time to move on. The kiss meant nothing.

Embarrassed, I tugged on my hands to get him to let go and stood. Without a word, I turned on my heel and made my way to the front door. I could hear sirens and tires skidding as the police arrived in the driveway. Each step I felt myself floating further and further away. Pain inside my heart was more pronounced than the pain in my body, and I just wanted to run. Almost on auto pilot, I pulled open the front door, my clothes, hands, and face covered in blood, and put my hands in the air as I descended the steps.

Almost as if from far away, I could her men yelling at me to stop and get down on the ground. Hearing Lance’s words in my head about not wanting to get shot by cops, I quit walking and sank to my knees, watching as I was rushed and pushed into the ground, gravel biting into my cheeks.

I just closed my eyes, drifting off to somewhere else. Somewhere quiet, calm. Where I could sleep in Lance’s arms every night. Where he wanted me. My arms were yanked backwards and cuffed, knees pressed into my back, but still I didn’t move. I was just so tired.


	25. Chapter 25

“Ma’am?”

I looked up from my notepad. A nurse was at my shoulder and she smiled at me. “He’s out of surgery. He’s asleep, but you can see him if you’d like.”

Giving her a polite smile, I nodded, tucking my things into the backpack at my side and standing to follow her. I was showered and dressed in jeans and a cotton shirt, a bandage covering my eyebrow. It had taken five stitches to close up the gash from hitting the wall. I also had scrapes on my face from being pushed onto the ground, two broken ribs, a sprained wrist and multiple bruises. Could have been worse.

The nurse arrived at a door and stepped aside, motioning with her hand for me to enter. “Not long, he needs rest.”

“I’ll only be a minute,” I muttered, stepping into the hospital room where Lance was lying in bed, his size dwarfing the mattress. IVs were hooked to his arms, an oxygen cannula was under his nose, machines beeped in time with his heartbeat. I would know that rhythm anywhere. Lance’s face was covered in bruises from Jake’s fist and my heart squeezed in my chest.

Placing my bag in a chair by the door, I stepped to his side, gripping his hand. Tracing his forehead and cheek with a finger, I smiled gently at him. I couldn’t stop myself from touching his lips, memories of his kisses haunting me.

“Hey,” I whispered, even though I knew he couldn’t hear me. “I’m kind of glad you aren’t awake for this. I guess after all this, I really am a coward at heart, because I couldn’t face you to say goodbye.”

My heart was breaking. I had made the choice to leave with nothing but the clothes on my back and a few items in my bag. Looking down at Lance’s handsome face, I felt as if we never really got a chance, and now, unable to face rejection from him again, I was running. If he woke up and left me, I wouldn’t be able to pull myself together. It was better for me to go now, on my own terms, than to have Lance push me away again.

Rubbing strands of his hair with my fingers, I wished I could see his crystal blue eyes one more time. I would have liked to take that image with me.

“Thank you, Lance.” I squeezed his hand and bit my lip. “Thank you for being there, for loving me, just for a short while. I forgot what that felt like.”

Tears gathered in my eyes and I let them fall, watching as they soaked the top of his hospital gown. Chuckling to myself, I plucked at the cloth, feeling the pad of gauze underneath. “I’ve never seen you look so sexy.” Choking on a sob, I cleared my throat. “Take care, Lance. One day, I hope you find an assignment that makes you happy in a way I couldn’t.”

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. I had to see him for this last part. “I love you.” My words were low, but I felt them deep in my soul. They were honest words and maybe they were more for me than for him. Leaning over, I pressed my lips to his softly, scraping my teeth along his lower lip and then bathing it with my tongue.

After one final press of my lips to end the kiss, I stood, whirling around, grabbing my bag, and leaving the hospital and Lance Archer behind.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five Years Later....

Dressed in a red wrap dress, slight ruffles on the hem, a matching sash at my waist, and my long legs sliding in and out of the high slit as I walked, I glared over my shoulder at Sammy.

“This is a huge waste of time!”

Sammy scurried after me, papers in his hands, his voice barely heard over the clacking of my high heels on the tile of the hotel lobby.

“Bel-Air, you’ve had ten death threats in less than a month. It’s time for you to take this seriously!” He held the letters in his hands towards me, but I didn’t take them. I didn’t want to see them. “Everyone is worried except for you.”

I scoffed. “I’ve been through Hell and back, Sammy. What could anyone do to me that hasn’t already happened?”

The letters were mostly from convicts who had nothing better to do, and I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of showing how terrified I was everyday. It was Santana’s job to research them and see if the threat was credible. If it was, he rarely told me, he told Sammy. I didn’t handle things like that well.

Sammy rolled his eyes and pointed at the conference room door where I was scheduled to meet my new bodyguards. Sammy had become my right-hand man after I published my book, _Assignment_ , an autobiography during the time I was with Jake, all the way to the end. I was a New York Times bestselling author, a speaker at domestic violence conferences for police departments, and had even testified in front of the Senate advocating for stricter protection for victims. Sammy dealt with all of that, keeping track of my calendar, arranging interviews, and basically keep my head on my shoulders.

Because the last five years had been unbearable. At first I had nightmares of Lance covered in blood, pleading with me to save him. And then I had insomnia for two years. During all of that, loud noises made me cry and my mood swung at the drop of a hat. With Jericho’s help, I finally found a therapist to help me and she diagnosed me with PTSD. It wasn’t surprising, but it was frightening, and it took dedicated therapy sessions and coping mechanisms to get me to a place where I could be alone at night. Days were better as long as I had someone near me.

I hadn’t been able to keep a job due to my inability to sleep at night, so my dreams of regaining my journalist career went up in smoke. During it all, I steadfastly worked on my book, pouring every detail into it that I could remember. I tried to keep Lance’s presence in the book to a minimum, only saying he was there and what steps he had taken to protect me and teach me. I couldn’t stand talking about him with anyone, my heart so full of holes that one mention of his name sent me on a tailspin.

I was depressed and anxious every day. I struggled to go to sleep, and I struggled to stay awake. If it wasn’t for Sammy, I never would have gotten my book published.

“Santana and Ortiz are perfectly capable of watching my back, Sammy,” I chided as I yanked open the conference room door.

He snorted, following behind. “Ortiz gets blocked at every TV station entrance because he refuses to dress in a suit and Santana got into a fight at the last cop convention.”

He wasn’t wrong, but I hissed at him over my shoulder. “You know how I feel about bodyguards. The fact that you are forcing me to do this pisses me off.”

He shrugged, ignoring the venom in my voice. “Blame your publisher. Besides, you’ll like this bunch.”

It was my turn to roll my eyes, but I crossed the carpeted floor to the three men standing amidst the tables being set up for the Domestic Violence symposium later that night, at which I was a guest speaker. They were huddled together, dressed in black suits, two facing me and one with his back in my direction.

I felt my feet begin to drag and my breath hitch in my chest. I knew those shoulders, that back, and that hair. I would recognize his body blindfolded. “Lance?”

He turned slowly but confidently. Lance’s blue eyes took me in, head to toe, and a small smirk ghosted at his lips. Dressed in that black suit with white button-down shirt and black tie, he took my breath away. His hair was tied back neatly, and his hands were clasped together in front of him. “Blair, nice to see you again. May I introduce you to Kip Sabien and Shawn Spears? My business partners.”

They both nodded at me but didn’t speak. Honestly, I couldn’t rip my eyes away from Lance’s face to even care that they were present. Caught in a sea of sadness, panic and elation, I forced myself to take the last few steps to stop in front of the three men, Sammy flanking me.

Lance never took his eyes off of me, but his professional mask stayed in place. I had dreamed of this moment, in so many different variations, and yet it was nothing like I had imagined. I always thought we would run into each other’s arms and he’d take my breath away with a kiss. Instead, he was as remote as the last day I saw him.

I still craved him as much as I had five years ago.

“What are you doing here?” I could hear how breathless I was, but it was beyond my control.

He indicated Sammy standing slightly behind me. “Sammy hired us for protective detail during your speaking tour.”

My head snapped towards my friend, but he only grinned at me, unashamed. “You said you don’t like bodyguards, but I know you like this one.” He seemed so proud of himself. I wanted to push him to the floor.

“No,” I disagreed, “I like this one the least out of all of them.” It was a lie. I was a liar. But I couldn’t let myself be seem vulnerable when it was all I could do to stop myself from climbing him like a tree.

Behind Lance, the one he indicated as Shawn coughed behind his hand, looking away. Kip just blatantly grinned.

“Tough tits, Blair,” Lance growled. “You know how I work and that’s to your benefit. Sammy, do you have the letters?”

I gasped, trying to snatch the papers out of Sammy’s hand as he passed them to Lance. “He has no right to those, Sammy!”

Blocking my reach with one arm, Lance lifted the papers high in the air where I couldn’t get to them, his eyebrow raised. “I need to know what we are up against.”

Shawn plucked the letters out of Lance’s hand and began to read them silently. My skin burned with awareness against Lance’s forearm, so I stepped back, crossing my arms across my chest and glaring at each man in the room.

“Looks like inmates pissed because she’s heading up some sort of domestic violence underground railroad.” He looked up at me past Lance’s shoulders, admiration in his eyes. “This is ballsy.”

Uncomfortable with the praise, I shrugged it off. “It’s only one of many such non-profits.”

Shawn shook his head, tapping Lance’s shoulder to hand him the papers. “You are trying to network them. No one has done that before.”

Looking down, Lance shuffled the letters, skim reading them. “Are these credible?”

Sammy nodded, ignoring my glare. “Those are the ones either out on parole or getting out in the next three months during the tour.”

I threw my hands up. “I have an interview with People magazine. I can’t sit here and gossip.” Intending to whirl away to leave, I was shocked when Lance’s hand grabbed my arm, halting me.

“It’s not like you to not take threats seriously Blair.” His voice was husky, crawling under my skin and warming me up after years of being chilled to the bone. I didn’t want it. Being susceptible to him again was not something I could do. I’d come too far.

Even with his height, I managed to look down my nose at him, a feat I was secretly proud of. “I’ve lost everything, Lance. There isn’t a damn thing they could do to me that would even register on the level of Hell I’ve been through.”

Yanking my arm out of his grip I stalked out of the room, annoyed when I heard him behind me yelling orders.

“You two canvas the hotel, check the exits, and find your stations for tonight. I’ll be with Miss Corrigian.”

Another hole pierced my heart. He’d never called me that before and it sounded so impersonal. Smothering my rolling emotions, I boarded the elevator to head back up to my suite where I was to be interviewed. Lance was right with me, crowding my personal space with his large body. As soon as the doors closed, I knew I was in trouble. Tension, sexual and otherwise, filled the air.

He whirled around, crowding me back into the corner of the elevator. His eyes blazed hot, his mouth slashed with determination. “You fucking left me, Blair,” he growled. All coldness had evaporated and heat flared in his eyes.

I didn’t expect that from him and I squeaked. At the same time, my body was on fire, begging for his touch. There would never be a moment when I didn’t want Lance Archer. “I did the right thing.”

There was just a hair’s breadth between us and my nipples pebbled from his body heat, reaching for him. “For who, huh? Right thing for who? You ran! No one would tell me where you went!”

I closed my eyes momentarily before reopening them. Jericho had been grilled by Archer for days, but he kept my secret. I was in debt with my friend for life. “Your job was over. I was safe and Jake was dead. There was no reason for me to stay.”

His expression twisted as if I had punched him in the stomach, and he turned, pressing the STOP button on the wall panel, halting the elevator between the fourth and fifth floors. Picking up the emergency phone, he called the security office.

“Lance Archer here, security for Blair Corrigian. We are fine and I will restart the elevator momentarily.” His voice was clipped and professional, broking no arguments before he hung up. Immediately, his gaze was back on me and I shrank back into the corner.

“You were not a job, Blair.” I opened my mouth to protest, because that’s exactly what I was, but he continued. “And what about me? Huh? Was I not enough reason to stay? Or at least have a conversation with me!”

Attempting to keep my calm and aloof façade in place, I furrowed my brows as if I was confused. “You gave me no indication you wanted to stay around. In fact, if I remember correctly, you had sex with me one time and then pushed me away.”

Lance’s fists clenched by his side. “I was trying to keep my dick in my pants so I could concentrate on keeping you alive. And it worked, by the way!”

I felt my mask slip a little as I glared at him. “It didn’t occur to you to talk to me about it? Instead you made me feel alone and abandoned when I needed you the most.”

Abruptly, Lance turned away from me, running a hand over his face. His beard was longer, no longer tight against his skin but forming a goatee. It looked sexy and rugged, and I wondered what it looked like with shades and a bandana. “Blair, loving you so fast knocked me on my ass, ok? I admit, I didn’t handle it well. But I told you from the beginning, your safety is my first priority. I make no apologies for that.”

Gathering my courage, I stepped out of the corner and pressed the emergency button to release the elevator. Flicking my eyes at him, I turned to face the doors. “Apparently that is what you are here for. Again. Seems I can’t stay out of trouble. I hope you are getting paid this time.”

I thought I saw him grin, but I kept my face forward. The dynamics had shifted between us. My heart was still his, it probably always would be, but I was stronger now. I wouldn’t give in at the slightest of temptations and I wouldn’t run scared. This life was mine. I made it. I struggled through dark days and battled with demons, and no one, not even Lance Archer, was going to take that from me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote and rewrote this chapter so many times. I always intended for this to be the epilogue, with hot and steamy make up sex in an elevator. But when I got here, Blair was having none of it. She wasn't ready to let Lance in again, and therefore, no make up sex. 
> 
> .....Yet.....


	27. Chapter 27

Smiling serenely, I listened to the journalist end her segment and heard the director yell “cut!”. Immediately the bright lights aimed at my face turned off and I forced myself not to sigh with relief. Leaning forward, I took her hand. “Thank you so much, Katie.”

She returned my smile and handshake, bringing me to my feet. “No, thank you Blair. This was a great interview, and I appreciate you letting us into your suite to film.”

Katie was about two inches taller than me, dressed smartly in a white silk blouse and navy trousers with nude pumps. She was intelligent and sharp, asking me difficult questions regarding domestic violence statistics and funding that forced me to back up my research. She was right, it was a great interview. I felt empowered and ready for my speech later that night.

The crew was packing up the lights and cameras that had been set up all over the living room. My bedroom was behind a closed door, and no one had gone in there. That was my one rule. Off limits. Outsiders not allowed. Santana was perched on the couch, one foot on the coffee table, his eyes scanning each and every body in the room. I was grateful he had stayed in the room while I went downstairs with Sammy.

Against the wall in front of the window, Lance was stationed as if he was a steel door. He hadn’t moved or looked at me since we entered the room, but I was very aware of his presence. As was Katie.

She leaned towards me as if we were old friends. “Who is that tall drink of water? Dear God, you walked in with him and I had to squeeze my legs shut.”

Biting my lip hard, I appeased her. “Lance Archer. Head of my security team.” I didn’t like her looking at him, jealousy twisting my stomach.

Katie flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder, peering at him with keen interest. “Do you know if he’s seeing anyone?”

My stomach protested, but I shook my head. “I’m not privy to his personal life. You’ll have to ask him.”

Santana caught my eye, confusion in his expression. All I could do was throw him a pleading look to stay out of it. Lance was not mine. He truly never had been. I had no claim on him and he had made no claim on me. Santana rolled his eyes at me and began plucking at his fingernails as if he wasn’t eavesdropping.

Patting my arm, Katie winked at me. “Don’t mind if I do.”

I watched as she confidently made her way over to Lance. His expression never changed, and he only looked at her once to indicate he knew she was standing in front of him. Katie ran a hand over the lapel of his suit, sliding up close to him and I could hear myself screaming in my head. I needed to get out of that room.

“Santana.” I called to him, causing him to look up at me. “I’m going to go relax for a bit. Wake me up in a couple of hours?”

He nodded. “Ortiz is in your room setting up dinner. Should be done by now.”

I was wondering where his counterpart was. Excusing myself from the crew and nodding at Katie, completely ignoring Lance, I escaped into my room, throwing myself on the bed.

Ortiz was laying out my food. “Man trouble?”

Lifting my head to look at him, I glared. “What do you know about it?”

He laughed, moving to nudge my foot with his sneaker. “Sammy sent a whole group chat. I hear there were fireworks.”

Groaning, I threw a pillow at his face. “Get out of here!”

Laughing, he danced away, closing the door behind him. Santana, Ortiz, and Sammy had come along on this crazy ride that was my life after my book had been published. They took care of me, guiding me and protecting me sometimes from myself. They were my entourage of sorts but we were a unit while they all explored life away from Fozzy’s.

Through the door, I heard Santana say something in a cautious tone. Struggling up to my elbows, I watched as Lance opened the door and closed it, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What are you doing?” I exclaimed, glaring at him. “You can’t just walk in here without knocking.”

Lance smirked at me and my panties dampened. Damn him and that smile. “Funny thing about my contract, Baby. It says that when I’m on shift, I’m to stay within eye line of you. I’m never off shift and closed doors block my eye line.” He looked smug and his tone was argumentative.

I sat up fully. “One, I am no longer your ‘baby’ and two, I’ll be slamming doors in your face left and right so get used to it.”

His arms dropped to his side and he was across the room in two steps, his long legs carrying him the distance in a blink of an eye. Planting his hands on either side of my body, effectively trapping me against the bed, he peered into my eyes. “You will always be my ‘baby’, Blair. Always. And if you slam a door in my face, expect it to be taken off the hinges.”

As before in the elevator, my whole body lit up at his nearness. My skin felt as if it was stretching towards him and I could feel my chest begin to rise before I caught myself. It was tempting to press against him, to allow him to hold me again, but it wouldn’t last. He’d leave.

Steeling myself, I placed my hand on his chest, right over that sexy black tie, and pushed him back. He allowed me to, rising to his full height as my hand dropped back down. Lance hovered over me as I peered up at him, my chin almost brushing against his cloth covered cock.

“What are you even doing here, Lance?” The question came out on a sigh, and I was suddenly incredibly tired.

Lance watched me for a moment, taking in everything I tried to hide, but never could from him. The circles under my eyes were covered in concealer, my hair was so long I had to braid it to tame it, and I was pale. Only recently I had begun to regain the weight I had lost during my last depressive episode, and I knew that without major make up, my face would look sunken instead of contoured. Lance saw it all.

“There are a lot of answers to that question, Blair. I’m not sure which one you want.”

Pressing a hand to my forehead, I waved him away. “Please go. I need to rest before tonight.” I couldn’t fight with him then. Seeing him again was so overwhelming that I didn’t know how to process it.

He was still a moment longer before dropping down into a crouch in front of me. Before I realized what he was doing, he had lifted my right foot onto his thigh and began unbuckling the strap on my heels. His fingers were deft and sure, no movement wasted, just as I remembered. In my mind’s eye, I saw him at the dining room table, dismantling a rifle, checking it, cleaning it, and reassembling it.

His movements had the same feeling, total control and confidence. Yet every touch crept up my calf to my thigh, ending at my clit. Full awareness. An aching throb that made my tug on my braid as I watched him slide my shoe off and set it aside. The slit in my dress parted, exposing my legs. Midway up my thigh was a black garter, just a black strap, nothing fancy. But tucked inside that garter was one of the throwing knives he had gifted me. I was never without one on me, either on my thigh, at my wrist, or at the small of my back. There was also one under my pillow that I gripped as I slept. The blade looked ominous laying against my skin, and I flicked my eyes up to meet his, curious as to what his reaction would be.

Lance's eyes were glued to my leg, and I caught the small shift of his feet as he adjusted his body, but he didn't say a word.

Not hesitating, he moved to the next shoe, looking up at me. “I’ll have Sammy call a hairdresser. You need to get your hair cut, Baby. When it’s long you get headaches.”

I felt my chest tighten. I had never told him that before, but I had mentioned it in my book. My mouth was dry. “You read my book?”

Lance removed my heel and set it next to its mate, his hand resting on the back of my calf like it was fused there. “’Of course I did.”

“Are you mad?” I asked. I had to know. Purposefully I had kept our relationship strictly professional. In no way did I want to influence other women to sleep with their security if they could obtain them. The temptation of a white knight when you were extremely vulnerable was dangerous to the psyche.

In one smooth move, Lance was on his feet, catching my hands and bringing me to a standing position at the end of the bed in front of him. “Mad about what?” Lance reached for the sash holding my dress closed.

Surprise kept me from protesting, my mouth dropping open but I continued with my thought as if I couldn’t separate one action from the other. “About whitewashing…us.” I didn’t know how else to explain it.

Lance parted my dress and slipped it off my shoulders. I stood there, barefoot, in a black lace bra and panty set, a knife strapped to my thigh, and he didn’t even give me a second look. Leading me to the side of the bed, he pulled back the covers and helped me in.

As he settled the blankets against me, he looked me in the eye. “Our relationship is ours, Blair. Am I mad you didn’t out me for having sexual relations with a client? No. In fact, thank you for not doing that. Thank you for not naming me. It would have complicated my life and career. Your book was amazing, and I’m proud of you. What you’ve overcome and achieved in the past five years is nothing short of awe-inspiring.”

He leaned over and kissed my forehead, and walked out of the room, leaving the door cracked. I could see his body blocking the door, his back to me. He had really meant it about no more closed doors.

I laid for there for a while, realizing I hadn’t eaten, but I was too confused by Lance. He seemed possessive but had made no move towards claiming me. Was he immune to my body? He all but stripped me and didn’t even flinch. That bruised my ego a bit, frustrating me. I couldn’t have it both ways. I either wanted him, and wanted him wanting me, or I didn’t.

But life just didn’t work that way.


	28. Chapter 28

“In the United States, right now, there are over 19 million women and over 5 million men who have experienced stalking behavior by a partner. There is suspicion that the number of men is twice that, but go unreported due to the stigma of men welcoming advances from women. Everyday, there are more than 20,000 phone calls made to domestic abuse hotlines across the United States. 20,000,” I stressed the number. “Let that sink in. That is more than likely more than the population of your hometown.”

Pausing, making eye contact with a few men in the first couple of rows, I made my next point.

“I am not here to throw numbers at you, numbers you have in your handy pamphlets that you’ll throw on your desk in your office or on the side table as you enter your house. No. I’m here to put faces to those numbers.”

The stage was brightly lit and the conference room dark, illuminating me as I turned to point the remote at the overhead projector. A woman’s face appeared, large and commanding against the screen. She was blonde, in her 30s, and would have been a strikingly beautiful lady if not for the large black bruise covering the side of her face from eye to jaw. A bloody cut marred her opposite eye brow, and her nose was disjointed, broken by a fist.

“With consent, I present to you the victims of stalking and domestic abuse.” I clicked to go forward to the next slide. A man’s face appeared, his lip split and eye swollen shut. “These victims knew, and possibly once, loved their attackers.”

I systematically pressed the next slide button on the remote as I continued speaking, their faces a horrid backdrop to my message. I paced the stage, maintaining eye contact with the men and women in the audience, lawmakers and officials who controlled the laws in their towns.

Against the back wall, in the shadows, Lance stood stoically. He was facing me, his eyes never seemingly leaving me for a moment, yet I knew he was aware of every person in the room. Spears stood against the wall next to the door, and Kip was in the hallway, keeping an eye out.

Sammy was off to the side at a small table with a chair and a laptop, working busily on something I wasn’t aware of. I was glad he was there though. With Lance and his buddies around, I felt off center, but Sammy’s presence righted me.

“Right now one of the biggest issues is getting these victims out safely. A lot of different factors go into this situation. Is the victim living with their abuser? Is the abuser watching the victim using bank records or cell phone tracking? Are there children involved? Each removal of a domestic abuse victim should be treated with care, sympathy, and patience, on a case by case basis. Each one of your offices should have at least one, if not two, case workers that deal solely with these cases.

As I moved into my plan for creating a fake app for mobile users, Sammy suddenly bolted to his feet, looking panicked. The chair behind him tilted, hitting the wall and leaning there as Sammy took off down the side aisle, straight towards Lance. People’s heads turned, taking attention away from my message.

My voice receded in my head as panic began to set in although I was still on track. As if on autopilot, I continued my presentation all while taking in what was happening at the back of the room.

Lance’s head was bent down towards Sammy who was furiously whispering something in his ear. Sammy’s hands waved, emphasizing his words. Lance lifted his head and locked eyes with me and a chill ran down my spine. His expression blazed with determination and fury and as I ended the gruesome slideshow behind me to make my final point, I felt my body tense up. Whatever Sammy had told Lance had put him into hunter mode.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lance nod at Spears, who met Sammy halfway down the aisle closest to the exits. They spoke a moment, and then together, left the room.

Lance never budged. Wherever I went as I moved around the stage, his gaze followed me, his hands clasped calmly in front of him. I wanted to know what was going on, and it aggravated me that I had to wait to find out.

“Thank you for your time,” I closed my presentation, gave a polite bow and waved to the crowd, who were on their feet clapping and talking amongst themselves. The noise was loud in the cavernous room, bouncing off the walls and thundering in my ears.

Lance was suddenly at my elbow, his hand on my arm leading me down the short stairs at the side of the platform to where I would mingle with the conference goers for a few moments, answering questions. Sammy was usually by my side for this part, but I could admit to myself that with Lance behind me, I felt safer than I had in years.

I smiled and chattered with a few people, all the while trying to resist the urge to lean against Lance. He was close, too close. I could tell he made people nervous from their constant worried glances his way, but I didn’t care. Having him there settled something deep in my soul.

In between greetings, I flicked my eyes at him over my shoulder. “What happened?” I asked, so only he could hear me. A woman came up to me and shook my hand, and I was gracious as she and another gentleman tried to include me in their conversation. Truthfully, I had no idea what they were saying. I was focused solely on the man behind me.

He continually scanned the room, using his height to his advantage. As people pressed close to move past my small group, he used his body as a shield, making sure no one but himself touched me.

Lance’s voice rumbled in his chest and I could feel it against my arm. “Sammy was researching the letters. Some were anonymous. Not much we can do about those. But one had an interesting postmark on the envelope. Turns out the writer knew Hager.”

All noise ceased for me. All around me the world continued, smiling people who laughed and shook hands, exchanging information and ideas. But inside my head where the ringing in my ears was louder than nails on a chalkboard, I could hear nothing. I didn’t ask how Sammy had come to that conclusion, I didn’t want to know. But if he wasn’t sure, he wouldn’t have told Lance, and Lance wouldn’t have told me. It was that simple.

Lance’s hands came up to my arms, and he held me tightly, forcibly turning me away from the crowd and escorting me away. I saw mouths drop and furrowed brows, people muttering about rudeness as he guided me through the throngs of people. I didn’t care. I couldn’t breathe. My chest was tight and every effort to draw air in only constricted me further.

“Come on, Blair, breathe,” Lance urged, a slight growl in his voice. His long strides all but carried me out of the room, but feet only skimming the ground.

“I can’t,” I panted. Without thinking, I reached to my left, slipping my hand inside his suit jacket to grip the lapel, trying to anchor myself. The warmth of his body against my forearm seeped into my skin and I felt his chest muscles bunch. He never broke stride.

Lance slammed open the door to the hallway. Kip, Spears, Sammy, and Santana all looked up, concern in their eyes.

“Blair, you okay?” Santana asked. He took a step towards me as if to hold me, as he had done during many of my panic attacks, but Lance glared at him.

“I have her. Go get Sammy’s laptop and paperwork. Clear these people out of here as quickly and politely as you can. Where is Ortiz?” Lance barked orders while tucking me under his shoulder. Trying to clear my head and come back to the present, I had to revert back to an old therapy lesson. Snapping my mouth closed, I held what breath I had in my lungs for ten seconds, and then let it out. Inhaling deeply, I felt relief that I could feel my lungs begin to work again. My therapist had called it a reset. When panicking, remember your body is doing the work, it’s your brain that is fighting your instincts. By holding your breath, it’s basically like a factory reset.

Sammy tilted his head towards the end of the hallway. “He’s been in the security office watching cameras like you asked.”

I looked up at Lance and he seemed puzzled, as if he had forgotten that particular order. I was amazed that he had only been back in my life for a few hours and yet he had already taken control of every aspect of my life. I should have been more upset, and I hated that I wasn’t.

He nodded at the group. “What’s next?”

Sammy looked at me apologetically. “Book signing. We have you set up in the lobby.”

“Away from doors and windows?” Lance demanded.

He nodded, watching Santana enter the conference room as strings of people began filing out, chattering about the session. “As far as we could get her without putting her out of the way.”

Sighing, Lance took my hand out of his jacket and held it tightly in his. “Ok, Baby. Let’s get this done and get you upstairs. Sound good?”

I could only agree. I felt dazed and removed from what was going on around me. Something about the letter had created this flurry of panic around me, and I knew that I was going to have to be brought up to speed. But at that moment, it was all I could do to just put one foot in front of the other.

Straightening my spine to stand up straight, I removed my hand from Lance’s, ignoring his surly expression. “Let’s do this.”


	29. Chapter 29

I soaked in the tub for over an hour, staring at the tile blankly. Bubbles slowly dissolved and the water grew colder, but it took me longer than it should have to realize it. Every move I made felt robotic and stiff, just going through the motions of climbing out of the tub, toweling dry, and putting on my pajama shorts and tank top felt as if someone else was controlling my body.

Opening the bathroom door, I found Lance on the other side, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face.

I rolled my eyes slipping past him. “Get over it.”

He stalked after me. “What did I say about doors?”

Tossing my dress and dirty underwear in my bag, I kept my back to him. “In what world do you think I’m going to let you stare at me while I am in the bathroom?”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him shrug out of his jacket and roll up his sleeves, exposing his corded forearms. I felt my mouth go dry and I quickly looked away. There would never be a time when Lance didn’t sexually turn me on, but I shoved the feeling away. I couldn’t be with someone who had two modes that they operated on. I needed stark honesty at all times.

“Blair, I’m not pissed you closed the bathroom door. I’m pissed because you were in there for over an hour.”

I chuckled darkly. What a liar. If there was one thing I knew about my former lover, it was that he didn’t like having his orders ignored. Sitting on the bed, I propped my leg up and began rubbing lotion on my skin. Lance watched me for a moment before reaching up to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt.

“Tell me.”

He knew what I wanted. Sighing, he ran a hand over his face and plopped down heavily in the club chair in the corner of the room. “Stu Grayson. Do you know that name?”

I shook my head in the negative, switching to the other leg. I kept my gaze away from Lance, but I hoped he was watching, which was the exact opposite of what I should have wanted. The chemistry between us was still powerful, and I felt very feminine in that moment with his eyes on me.

“He was a buddy of Hager’s. Went to survivalist training together. Has a rap sheet a mile long, assault, resisting arrest, domestic violence. And some drunk and disorderlies too.”

My skin felt hot at the mention of Jake. It was a searing burn that scorched my muscles and organs, twisting anxiety that brought back that horrible day and the mental image of Lance on top of Jake with my knife in his throat. Clearing my throat, I closed the lotion bottle lid and stood. Padding to the dresser, I set the bottle down, glancing at Lance in the mirror.

He looked so fucking sexy. Sprawled out in the chair, looking exhausted yet stern. His long hair had fallen over his shoulders, hiding the ends of his tie in the strands. His upper chest was bare and I licked my lips.

“Do I need to be worried about him? Just because he knew Jake doesn’t really mean much.”

He shook his head, rubbing his forehead with one hand. “It’s not the fact that he knew Hager that really bothers me too much, Baby. I mean, it’s a link and a lead. I honestly think it’s an excuse, a way to rile you up. His letter was mostly threatening you over your domestic violence advocation. He used his ties to Hager to add some color.”

I nodded as if I understood. Turning to lean against the dresser, I regarded him. “You think he’s a threat.” It was as statement, not a question.

His ocean colored eyes met mine. “Why are you not more worried about this, Blair? Sammy and Ortiz were telling me you ignore all the mail, you ask Ortiz to go through all your fan mail first. It blows my mind that you have gone through what you have and yet you ignore what is going on around you like it’s insignificant.”

I scowled. “What I went through? Just say it! I was beaten, held hostage, stalked, and almost murdered. I am well aware of my past, Lance. You have no right to say anything. You have no idea what I’ve been through in the last five years.”

He was out of the chair like a shot, reaching me in just a couple of steps before halting himself suddenly. He glared down at me, his chest heaving as frustration colored his face. “No. I don’t, do I. And would you like to remind me why, Blair?”

Pressing my lips shut, I looked down, avoiding his eyes.

“Oh no,” he chuckled darkly. Using his thumbs he tilted my head back so I had to make eye contact. “You can’t avoid me now, Baby. Why? Why did you run from me?”

Shrugging him off, I sidestepped him and went to the bed. Frankly, I was surprised he let me go, but I drew back the covers and looked back at him over my shoulder. “I’m going to bed. Please see yourself out.”

That smirk, that damn smirk, stretched on his mouth. “You think I’m leaving? Funny. I’m not going anywhere.”

My jaw dropped as he finished unbuttoning his shirt and pulled it off his shoulders, draping it across the club chair. My breasts tightened and my core weeped at the sight of him in just trouser pants, but as he began unbuckling his belt I came to my senses.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Pulling his pants down and shucking his shoes and socks, he grinned at me. “I told you. You are never out of my eye line and I’m never off the clock.”

By this time my heart was pounding out of my chest at his insinuation. Stripped down to his boxers he looked mouth watering. He had lost some weight, about ten or fifteen pounds. His waist was trimmer and his shoulders wider, his thighs thicker than tree trunks.

“Lance you can’t be serious.” I watched as he crossed the floor to the opposite side of the bed and pulled back the sheets.

“Dead serious. Go to sleep, Blair. This is your new life.”

We stared at each other for a long moment. His self satisfied smile never wavered and I felt myself overcome with exhaustion and frustration. With a rude noise I climbed into bed, grabbing a pillow and shoving it in the center of the mattress.

“Do not cross this pillow. This is Mount fucking Everest. Got it?”

He only laughed lightly as he laid down. Looking me straight in the eyes, he took the pillow and hauled it against his chest, cuddling with it tightly. “Your loss. Look how comfortable we are.”

Glaring at him, trying to smother my giggle, I flopped over so that my back was to him and turned off the light. “Touch me and I’ll break your fingers.”

“Hmm,” he mused in the darkness. “I remember you liking my fingers, so I think I’ll keep them intact for now.”

I buried my face in my pillow and closed my eyes. How was I going to make it having Lance back in my life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance really likes to push Blair's buttons


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

I slept better than I had in years. Upon opening my eyes I realized I was alone in the bed, but I heard the faucet running in the bathroom signaling Lance was nearby. Sunlight streamed through the curtains cheerily and I could hear the light sound of traffic as the day began.

Groaning, I sat up, rubbing my face with my hands and then combed my hair with my fingers. As I swung my legs out of the bed, Lance opened the bathroom door and strode out. He was back in a suit, identical to the one he had worn the day before. The jacket was on a hanger in front of the closet, and he was buttoning up the cuffs on his shirt as he stared at me.

“Good morning. How did you sleep?” he asked politely.

I felt shy and achy. As much as I adored Lance’s jeans and bandana, I had to admit that he looked like a feast in a suit. “Um, good actually. You?”

He nodded but didn’t answer specifically. “Sammy sent me your schedule. TV interview at 10 and then we hop on a flight, correct?”

I nodded, my eyes trailing after him as he moved through the room. He put on a watch I hadn’t noticed before and slid his wallet and keys into his pocket before going back to shrug on his jacket.

“Do what you need to do. Door stays cracked so I can see you. Do you want breakfast?”

He was already running my life, and I found that I wasn’t as annoyed as I thought I would be. If it had been anyone else I would have punched them in the throat, but Lance just had the ability to swoop in and take over. “Yes. I’d like to talk to Sammy. Privately, Lance. Please.” Hearing the pleading note in my voice. I cleared my throat. “In case I’m not clear, that means I want the damn door closed.”

He smirked at me. “I knew what you meant, Baby. The door is not going to be closed, but I’ll take a few steps away if that makes you feel better.”

Rolling my eyes, I stood up and escaped into the bathroom, shutting the door a little harder than what was really needed. God, he was frustrating. What was he playing at, coming into my life and planting himself there as if he had rights to me? I’d been down that road before, and I’d never go back. It didn’t end in a romantic fairytale. It ended with pain and fear.

I heard Sammy and Ortiz’s voices, and Lance’s stern rebuttal. A knock on the door made me squeak in alarm, but I opened it to find Lance on the other side, holding my suitcase.

“Ortiz brought breakfast.” He scowled. “He wanted to set it up while you are in your pajamas.”

Smothering my smile, I raised my eyebrow at him. “The boys have seen me in pajamas before, Lance. They didn’t die of shock and no one made a move on me.”

Pushing my bag at me, he looked down as if perplexed. “I get I’m probably making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be, but the door is open. Anyone can see in. It makes me uncomfortable for anyone but me to see you like this.”

My mouth dropped open. Taking the bag from him, I regarded him. When it came to my safety, Lance was upfront. He had never hid the seriousness of the scenario from me, but when it came to his emotions, he was a closed book. Lance spoke more with actions than words. To have him in front of me explaining why he didn’t like a situation left me stunned. But I wasn’t going to let him off that easy.

“Well it made me uncomfortable for you to just declare my bed as yours last night, but I guess we aren’t talking about double standards here, huh?” I felt ridiculous arguing with him in the doorway of a bathroom.

He locked onto my face, reading my expression. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

Snorting, I pushed the door closed. “No, you are staking your claim. Although no one fucking asked, Lance.”

I heard him grunt and I turned to get ready. I chose black skinny jeans with a black and white polka dot blouse with a large bow at the back of my neck. It was an obnoxious blouse, the collar high and almost see through, but I loved it. And it was eye catching for TV. Combing my hair, I put it up in a ponytail and put on face cream. I’d brush my teeth and apply makeup after breakfast.

Barefoot, I left the bathroom and found Ortiz and Sammy grinning at Lance, who glared at them. “What is happening?”

Ortiz just shook his head. “I was telling Archer about my new found passion for food. The chef in the hotel kitchen let me make you breakfast this morning, Blair.”

I had a feeling I was missing something but I didn’t make a comment. Smiling at him gratefully, I sat at the small table near the window. Lance made a noise in his throat and I looked up at him, seeing him stare at me intensely. Sighing, I stood and switched to the other chair next to the wall. So much for gazing outside at the beautiful day. Sammy sat across from me in the seat I had just vacated and Ortiz and Lance left the room.

True to his word, the door was open, but he moved away so that he was not directly blocking the doorway. I doubted that impaired his hearing.

Sammy grinned at me. “So, Lance slept in your bed last night?”

I ignored him, cutting a piece of French toast with my fork. “Do I have time to get my hair cut?” Lance was right, I was getting headaches from the weight.

“Already booked for when we land at 3pm today.”

“Thanks.”

“So, Lance slept in your bed last night, huh?” Sammy repeated himself. He wasn’t going to let it go.

Exasperated, I nodded. This was what I wanted Sammy in here for anyway. I needed advice. Lowering my voice, I whispered to him. “He’s so bossy!”

Matching my tone, Sammy leaned closer to me over the table, handing me the salt for my eggs when I asked for it. “That’s his job.”

I couldn’t help but glare at him. “His job is not to butt into my life as if he owns me.”

I was shocked by Sammy’s surprise. “Do you think that’s what he’s doing?”

“You know he is, Sammy. I have to stay in eye line? No closed doors? Sleeping in my bed with me? What the fuck is all of that?”

He was quiet a moment, looking out the window. When he spoke, his voice was still low. “I think he missed you, and is afraid you’ll up and disappear again.” He intentionally didn’t look at me. “Can you imagine what that must have felt like for him, Blair? To wake up in the hospital after killing a man to protect he woman he loved, only to find out she ran?”

It was rare that Sammy called me by my name. It was always Bel-Air. That told me what he was saying was serious, and I really needed to think about it.

He stole a piece of my bacon off my plate and I glared at him. “I’m not saying he’s right for sleeping in your bed. But can you blame him for not wanting you out of sight? Was he inappropriate? Did he hurt you? Were you uncomfortable? Because I’ll kick his ass, Blair. I will.”

I had to smother my smirk. Sammy was fit, but lanky, all arms and legs. Lance would squash him like a bug without blinking, but my heart swelled with affection for my friend. “No, Sammy. It just caught me off guard. But I’m fine.”

He glanced over his shoulder towards the open door, then back at me. “If that changes, you let me know.”

Nodding sagely, I agreed. Taking a deep breath, I plunged into what I really wanted his opinion on. “Do you think he’s like Jake?”

Sammy was in the middle of shifting in his chair when my question took him by surprise. His knee came up and banged against the underside of the table and he hissed. “Jesus Christ. Fuck no, Bel-Air. What the Hell? Do you think any of us would let him near you if we thought that?”

Trying to play it off, I shrugged, biting into my eggs again. “You don’t know him like I do.”

Clearly frustrated, Sammy ran a hand over his thick black hair. “You’re right, we don’t. But you said it yourself, he doesn’t touch you inappropriately and he hasn’t harmed you.”

“Oh, so that’s the bar Jake has set?” I sneered. “It’s a little low.”

“So tell me why you asked that, because I don’t see any similarities at all.” Sammy glanced at his watch. “You’ve got an hour before we need to be at the TV station.”

Pushing my plate away, I motioned for Sammy to follow me to the bathroom. Picking up my toothbrush, I ran the water so that Lance couldn’t hear our conversation. “Jake started out sweet and nice. Turned into a total bastard.”

Sammy snorted, leaning against the doorjamb. “Understatement.”

“Lance started flirty and charming and then turned cold and pushed me away after we….got together.” Brushing my teeth, I watched Sammy’s face in the mirror. I had never spoken about having sex with Lance. I was sure they suspected, but that was my private memory, one I held close to my heart.

“When was this?” he asked.

Spitting out the toothpaste, I mumbled. “Before the alley.” I rinsed my mouth out with water.

He was silent for a moment, thinking. “After you got the shit beat out of you, Archer turned into an ice cube? Yeah, I bet seeing you bloody was pretty sobering. I know it was for me.”

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I asked, “What do you mean?”

He gave me an exasperated look. “Seriously, Bel-Air? He came into your life to protect you from that shitbag and he failed. Do you know what that would do to a man? The shame and rage? Throw feelings into the mix, and potent sexual tension and I’m sure he was strung as tight as a bow.”

Furrowing my brow, I tilted my head to regard him. “It hurt. Felt like rejection.”

“I’m sure it did.”

Sighing, I turned off the faucet but kept my voice low. “I can’t go through that again.”

Watching as I pulled my makeup bag out from the shelf under the sink, Sammy’s expression became shrewd. “Going back to your question about Lance and Hager, no I don’t think they are the same. If you are saying the switch in their personalities are cause for concern, I think you are making more out of it than it is. Is Lance domineering? Without a doubt. Does he mean it as a way to control you? No, if you went against him, he wouldn’t hurt you. His job may be protective detail, but with you, it’s different. Your safety and well-being are important to him. Hager was psychotic, Blair. Don’t compare the two.”

With that, Sammy turned and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.


	31. Chapter 31

Lance was by my side as I climbed into the back of the black SUV that would take me to the TV station. His hand gripped my elbow to steady me and then let go as soon as I was seated, but I felt it like a brand. Sammy was already in the back, two folders on his lap. Lance climbed in the front passenger seat and nodded at Spears that we were ready.

Sammy handed me one folder. “These are the corrections from your editor.”

Opening it, I found fewer red lines then there had been in the last batch. “Getting there,” I muttered. “Pen?”

He handed me a blue one and opened the calendar on his phone. “Flight is delayed an hour. Bad weather. Hair appointment rescheduled to tonight, but I asked if they could come to the hotel instead of you going to the salon.”

I raised my eyebrow at him. “And they agreed?”

He nodded, and Spears spoke up from the driver’s seat. “Kip is vetting them and the hotel is letting us use a room on another floor so we can stay out of your room.”

I was thankful for that, but didn’t respond. It seemed they had everything well in hand, so I looked back down at the edits in my lap. “Did she say when she wanted these back?”

Sammy didn’t look at me. “Within the week.”

The vehicle was quiet for a moment, everyone focused on what they were doing. Then Lance spoke up. “What are you working on?”

Chewing on the cap of the pen, I responded absentmindedly. “New book.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Spears and Lance give each other a look, and then their focus was right back out the windshield.

“What’s it about?” he asked mildly, as if just making conversation.

If I would have been paying attention, I would have realized he was fishing. “The effects domestic violence and stalking have on victims and survivors.”

“Like what, specifically?” he asked, a little grumble in his voice.

“Mental health. PTSD, depression, anxiety, night terrors…” I trailed off. I wrote a note to the side of a strikethrough my editor had left, protesting the mark.

Sammy was throwing me furtive glances, and I caught them a little too late.

“Are you having problems, Blair?”

My head picked up and I stared at the back of his seat as if it was his head. Spears kept his eyes forward, dealing with bumper to bumper traffic and Sammy was watching with rapt attention. “No more than others.”

He hissed and the car filled with tension. My statement was vague. I didn’t talk about my issues with mental health with people I didn’t know. The book would be my first foray into that and I was raw and open with it. It hurt, but if my story could help others in similar situations, I had to believe it would be worth it. Otherwise, why had I gone through it all?

There was nothing further said on the subject, and Sammy handed me the topics the TV station wanted me to discuss. I reviewed and memorized them, knowing I was shit with teleprompters. We arrived shortly thereafter, and Lance once again assisted me from the back of the SUV, melding his hand to my elbow as he guided me inside.

The interview itself was only fifteen minutes, but the wait in the green room, the set up, lighting check, line check, and other odds and ends took over two hours. I smiled politely the whole time while Lance prowled the studio, a thunderous expression on his face. I kept throwing Sammy desperate looks for help but he only grinned at me, enjoying the drama. No doubt he’d share the gossip with Santana and Ortiz when we met back up with them.

As I scanned a proposal for the fake app for domestic violence victims at the makeup table in the green room, I heard Lance enter the room. The show was over and we were just waiting on Ortiz, Kip, and Santana to join us at the station before heading to the airport.

“Blair.”

I looked up finding him gesturing to the door that had been closed. Absentmindedly, I bent my head back down towards the papers in front of me. “Sorry. Didn’t even think about it. Was just trying to get some quiet so I could concentrate.”

Lance closed the door and sat on the couch behind me without a word. He was silent for a time, which I was thankful for. I really did need to get the proposal back to the R&D team.

“When you were struggling so bad, why didn’t you reach out to me? Jericho knew where I was, it wasn’t like I fell off the face of the planet.” His voice was pitched low, concerned. I didn’t detect an accusation in his tone.

I met his gaze through the mirror hanging on the wall in front of me. The chair I was in was at an angle, allowing me to cross my legs. Sighing, I pulled at the end of my ponytail. “It took a while for me to admit I was having problems. And when I finally did, all I could focus on was therapy and writing. I left town, so Jericho and the boys weren’t exactly around to see me crash and burn. I kept in touch and visited rarely. It was during one of those visits that Jericho found out how bad I was.”

He stared at me, waiting patiently but intensely for me to continue.

Casting a glance down at the table, I forged ahead. “I had left you, Lance. What right did I have to ask for your help or support after that?”

“Did you want to?” he asked.

I thought about that for a moment before answering. “I didn’t want to ask anyone for help, but it would have been nice to have you around. I think you would have caught on that I was having a hard time faster than I did.”

It was a small concession, but the truth. There were many nights I stared at the ceiling in my bedroom, wishing he was next to me, his arms around me.

His eyes shifted away from me. “Why did you leave, Blair?”

My pen clattered from my hand onto the table and I turned to face him, my hand on the back of the chair. “Why does it matter? Why do you keep asking? It doesn’t change anything that’s happened.”

He stared at me, his expression solemn as if I had answered his question with my outburst. Slowly he nodded, and with his hands on his knees, he heaved himself to his feet as if exhausted. “You’re right. I already know why.”

In that moment, my soul felt exposed. How could he know what I couldn’t even put to words? “What does that mean?”

Lance rested his hand on the doorknob and turned back to me. He suddenly looked more haggard than I had ever seen him, and my heart ached. “You left because I killed Jake. It’s the only reason that makes sense. You told me many times that you couldn’t imagine the end game, even though I was pretty clear on how it would go.”

My whole body shuddered in protest, a deep chill running through my veins. He was so off base, but I was stunned into silence, so I just stared at him.

“I’ll never forget your face, Blair. The horror in your eyes as I put all my body weight into the knife in his neck. I don’t blame you, by the way. For leaving. I just wish you would have told me to my face. It would have helped me sleep at night.” Sighing, he opened the door and took a step to leave, but stopped again. “I would have let you go. It was and is the best option for you. I’m just sorry I can’t stay away from you.”

Lance left the room, closing the door behind him just as tears spilled down my cheeks. That closed door sat heavy on my heart. It seemed symbolic, but I couldn’t grasp what had just happened. Lance was my hero. And not in the heart-eyed, bat-my-eyelashes, swoon kind of way. He was my live action hero, and Jake’s death was justified. My nightmares were always about not being able to save Lance. Not once had I dreamed about Jake dying. I didn’t care. If anything, I had felt relief and a sense of euphoria as I watched the medical examiner wheel his body out of the house. And I didn’t care how wrong that feeling might have been.

My reasons for leaving Lance were my own, ones of pure selfishness and fear. The fact that Lance put that on himself tore me apart. I didn’t know how to talk to him about it. Or if I should. Explaining myself would give him the opportunity to argue with me, to turn me, to try to win me back, if he was so inclined. And I’d fall head over heels in love with him again. The risk was to my heart, and she was so wounded that another injury would be irreparable.

A knock on the door startled me, and Spears poked his head in. “Sorry to interrupt. We’re ready to head to the airport.”

Swiping at my cheeks to clear away the tears, I tried to avert my face by busily gathering papers up. “Ok. Where’s Lance?” I was out of his eye line and I was sure he’d be upset when he came to his senses.

“He and Kip went ahead to the airport with the luggage. We’ll meet them there.”

He closed the door and I stopped what I was doing. Lance wasn’t here. He had left. After his revelation he probably needed some space, but I felt alone and nervous. I had become used to him being near me in only twenty four hours, and without him looming over me I felt empty.

Upset and confused, I joined Spears in the hallway and left the TV station, headed to the airport.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning* character anxiety attack

I sat in between Sammy and Lance on the hour and a half flight. Sammy went over my schedule for the next two days which was packed with media, lectures, and rewrites. It seemed as if every hour was planned down to the minute, including how long I had to sleep, afternoon naps, eating, and getting dressed for events. Only thing not planned were trips to the bathroom.

Lance’s massive size meant that the arm rest between us had to be raised, so I was pressed against his side absorbing his body heat. I didn’t fool myself, I was glued to him by choice. The other option was to lean against Sammy, and while it wouldn’t have been awkward between us, having Lance next to me felt better.

I hoped that somehow, through osmosis or skin contact, he could feel that I didn’t blame him for what happened between us. It was uppermost in my mind, and I willed him to hear my silent pleading, but he kept his gaze forward and body stiff the whole flight. Lance didn’t move or shift away from me, but he didn’t relax either.

Knowing he felt that way, that he blamed himself, really twisted me up. I had been completely prepared to wallow in self pity and suffer in silence while dealing with his presence, but I threw that plan out the window. Lance’s guilt ate at me, and I was humbled by the fact that he still wanted me safe. I didn’t deserve him, as a friend or otherwise. He was too good of a human being.

The minutes of waiting to disembarking the place were always the worst for me. Anxiety always rose up and told me I was trapped, that I was close to safety but yet so far away. As we waited for the door to open, my leg began to bounce in place and my fingers twisted together, nails plucking at skin. I tried to see over the seat in front of me but Kip’s large head blocked my view. Breath got stuck in my chest and I let out a whimper before I could stop myself.

Sammy caught the sound. “It’s ok, Bel-Air. Just another minute or two.” He turned the fan on above my head to blow directly on me, cooling the sweat that had begun to gather on my skin. I was thankful but becoming frantic.

“Blair?” Lance’s deep voice sounded concerned. “What do you need?”

I tried to take some deep breaths, but the air felt stale around me. Flashbacks played in my head of when Jake would lock me in the house for days while he went to survivalist training. Images of screaming and pounding on the doors, banging on bulletproof windows, crying over a cell phone he had jammed with a cell blocker. No way out, no help coming. Alone.

“Fuck,” he muttered, unclipping his seatbelt and wrapping his arms around me. From far away, I felt his breath against my hair. “I have you. You’re ok, Blair.”

I saw him tap Kip on the shoulder before I gripped his jacket tighter in my hands. I clung to Lance as if he was a lifesaver.

“Get the stewardess. We need to get off this plane first. Listen to me, Blair. You can breathe. Do it for me now. Inhale. Good girl. Exhale. Again, Baby. Inhale. Exhale.”

His voice crawled into my head loosening the ropes I had bound around myself. His large hand was on the nape of my neck, massaging gently, holding me against his chest and as I took breaths, I could smell his subtle cologne.

“Sammy, she’s going to be exhausted,” he spoke over my head but continued to mutter relaxing words in my ear.

From behind me, I heard Sammy reply. “We can head straight to the hotel.”

I knew I was being stared at, Kip and the stewardess were hovering in the aisle and between the seats I knew people were looking, trying to figure out what the emergency was. I buried my head deeper against Lance as if I could just disappear.

Permission was granted for my team and myself to disembark first. Lance had a hard time peeling me away from his body and then up to my feet. I walked dazed down the aisle to the open hatch, my hand in Lance’s as he walked in front of me, feeling completely disconnected from my body. In the breezeway, Lance swooped me up into his arms ignoring my weak protest. My arms wrapped around his neck automatically and my head rested against his shoulder.

“People will see,” I muttered.

“Ask me if I give a fuck,” he growled. In the terminal, paramedics were waiting, but Lance waved them off. I was thankful. That would have been humiliating. In the baggage claim area he stopped to address the team. “Kip and Santana, stay here to get the bags. Ortiz and Spears get the rental trucks. I’m taking Blair to the bathroom so she can pull herself to together. We’ll meet out front.”

No one argued, and the group broke up, all headed in opposite directions. “You are not actually taking me into the ladies bathroom are you?”

His arms tightened around me as he strode through the airport, ignoring the looks and comments. “Family bathroom.”

I almost smirked, but the headache from Hell was beginning to throb behind my right eye. Leave it to Lance to find a work around. “Wait,” I exclaimed suddenly, picking my head up to frantically look for Sammy. He was trailing behind us, his expression concerned while juggling my bag, his bag, and my paperwork. “Sammy, I need my phone.”

Jogging up to us, he handed me my phone. I tucked it against my chest as if it was my lifeline, and it might have been. Lance stopped outside of the bathroom and opened the door, leaving Sammy standing guard, he stepped in and locked the door before putting me on my feet.

Searching my face, he held onto my arms until I was steady on my feet. “What do you need, Blair?”

It was the second time he had asked that, and all I could do was smile weakly at him. “I’m sorry.”

Eyebrows furrowing he shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. Just tell me how I can help.”

Resting the hand that wasn’t holding my phone against his chest, I patted him. “Just be the quiet sentinel I always rely on, ok?”

He nodded, not really understanding what I was asking of him. Slipping my phone in my pocket, I went to the sink and slashed water on my face, not caring that I was ruining my makeup. I was wiped out and bone weary. Sighing, I looked at myself in the mirror, hating that I looked completely normal, just with streaked mascara and rosy cheeks. In some weird way if there was a neon sign about my head that flashed ANXIETY I’d feel better. Otherwise I just seemed crazy to people on the outside.

Lance handed me some tissue paper and I smiled at him gratefully, running it under my eyes to clear away the smeared mascara. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I called my therapist.

_“Blair, hello. How are you?”_

My eyes closed in relief at hearing Anna’s voice. In my mind’s eye I could see her in her office, boho chic with wonderful creams and blues surrounding her. Her coffee colored skin with perfect ringlets of curls, always full of understanding and support. She had been my rock when I struggled to remember who I was, and I was grateful she was willing to work with me while I traveled.

Clearing my throat, I leaned against the sink, keeping my face averted from Lance. “Um, hi Anna. I’m in a bathroom at the airport. I had another attack on the plane.” I didn’t need to go into more detail. She had been through this with me before. Too many times.

Her soothing voice responded immediately. _“I’m sorry to hear that, Blair. How are you feeling now?”_

I saw Lance shift and I raised my head to look at him. With his hand, he indicated leaving the bathroom to give me more privacy for my phone call. I shook my head. I wanted him close. It said a lot to me that he was willing to relax his rules for my peace of mind.

“Shaky, tired. I’m with friends, I’m safe. Just….tired of doing this all over again.”

She hummed into the phone and I quirked my lips. That was her sign that she was going to make me think about stuff. Stuff I probably didn’t want to. _“It’s been a while since your last event. Do you know what triggered it? How’s your stress level?”_

Briefly I closed my eyes, then reopened them to find Lance staring at me. He couldn’t hear Anna’s voice, but he was focused on me.

“High.” Lance’s confession earlier had sent me on a spiral of guilt and stress. It wasn’t his fault, I hadn’t been honest with him. I hesitated a moment before continuing to speak. “Am I always going to have flashbacks, Anna?”

_“Blair, you know I won’t lie to you, that doesn’t help. Yes, you’ll have flashbacks. We’ve discussed before lessening your workload to alleviate your stress level. Over time, the events will be few and far between. But PTSD is not curable. It’s manageable though.”_

I toed a piece of loose tile with my shoe. “This time, I don’t think it was work that triggered it. There are some other developments in my life. Personal ones. From my past.” I was purposefully vague. While I had given permission for Lance to be nearby, I didn’t want to delve too deep into that situation with him in the same room.

Anna was silent for a moment. _“Are you in a safe place?”_

I had already told her I was, but she was asking if I was alone. “I have a friend with me. I’m ok. Honestly, I think I just needed to hear your voice.”

I heard her softly chuckle. “ _You know I’ll always pick up the phone for you, Blair, but we should probably schedule a face to face visit soon.”_

Nodding, even though she couldn’t see me, I agreed. “Yeah, I think I need that.”

 _“Have Sammy call me with some times, ok? We’ll have a tele-conference.”_ Anna’s voice was cheerful and comforting. I felt my body relax and I sniffed.

“I really appreciate you, Anna.”

_“Call me anytime, Blair. Bye.”_

She hung up and I looked up at Lance. Dumbly, I held up my phone. “Therapist.”

He nodded, his blue eyes laser focused on me. “Feel better?”

Shrugging lightly, I bit my lip. “Having her bring me back to reality is helpful. When I get like that I tend to think the world is ending and I’ll never be the same again. Anna reminds me I’ve been through it all before and I am capable.”

Adjusting his suit, he adverted his faze. “Blair, I’ve never met a more capable woman than you.” Gesturing at the door, he tilted his head. “Ready to go?”

With a final glance in the mirror, I followed Lance out of the bathroom on my own two feet, although he hovered as if I’d collapse at any given second. Sammy was pacing a hole into the airport carpet and looked up eagerly as we exited the bathroom. “Bel-Air?”

I hugged him. I had to. He was the sweetest friend ever, always looking out for me and keeping my head on my shoulders. Imagining life without him was impossible. “I’m ok, Sammy. Can you arrange a Skype session with Anna, please? If I have to cancel something, do it. This is important.”

He didn’t argue. He whipped out his phone and looked over my calendar as Lance lead us back to baggage claim and out through the sliding doors. “No problem. Think she’ll care if you are eating while talking to her?”

I rolled my eyes.

Lance cuffed Sammy on the back of the head. “That’s rude. Cancel something.”

Sammy groaned but kept moving. The rest of the crew were outside waiting for us, Santana and Ortiz driving each of the SUVs respectfully. Lance helped me into the back of one and let Sammy slide in next to me before closing the door and climbing in front next to Ortiz. Kip and Spears were with Santana behind us.

Sighing, I pressed my forehead against the cool glass window as Sammy chattered about canceling and rescheduling things to fit in a session with Anna. I needed sleep and quiet, just for a little while. Opening my eyes, I found Lance turned in his seat looking at me. His expression was sober, but intense. At that moment I knew that between Sammy and Lance, I’d get whatever I needed. Lance may had been hired as protective detail, but as usual, he was ready to go above and beyond the call of duty.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, they talk....

The week that followed seemed as if it moved in fast forward. Each day was filled with meetings, speeches, editing, brainstorming, and Skype calls with Anna as needed. I liked how Sammy had arranged my schedule, jamming as many things into one city and the surrounding areas as possible so that I could stay in one place and work out of the hotel. If I had to get back on a plane the day after the anxiety attack I probably would have lost my mind.

After ending a Skype session with Anna, I sat down to work on some book editing at the table in my room with dinner Ortiz had supplied. He loved to cook and loved to know what I thought of his dishes. Anytime he was in a hotel where a chef would allow him to use the kitchen, I rarely saw him. His dream was to save enough money to go to culinary school, and I really wanted that for him.

Lance was sitting on the bed, jacket and tie off, white shirt unbuttoned to midway on his chest, and his trousers straining at the thighs, texting someone on his phone. We hadn’t spoken much since the bathroom at the airport. I felt exposed around him, as if he had seen me for the first time. More than once I caught him staring at me, and when he realized he was looking, he would slow blink and turn his head away, unashamed. I didn’t know what to make of that.

Anna and I had discussed Lance at length. She was well aware of my past with him. When I had asked her opinion of the situation, she had been honest, saying she thought I was overthinking and building walls to protect myself.

That wasn’t news. But it wasn’t fun hearing it from someone else. Sammy had said the same thing, but he knew Lance. Not well, but enough to have a biased opinion. Anna was supposed to be unbiased, steering me away from risky behavior. And I considered Lance a big risk.

“Your food is going to get cold if you keep staring at me.”

Lance’s gruff voice pulled me out of my daydream, and I found I was in fact staring at him, with my fork poised halfway to my mouth. Clearing my throat, I looked away, eating the bite of food. Lance never once looked up at me.

“Who are you texting? Your girlfriend?” The words were past my lips before I even thought them and my face turned red. God, I needed a filter.

He grunted, fingers flying over the screen. “Don’t worry about it.”

Every woman has one. That little jealousy demon that lives right under her heart, at the base of her ribs. Some can control that demon better than others, and I had just discovered I could not control mine at all. “Oh, come on. We’re friends, right? If you have a girl, you can tell me.”

Why, oh why, did I love to torture myself? If Lance was with someone, I damn sure didn’t want to know about it. Imagining him holding someone that wasn’t me, smoothing back her hair, kissing her temple, thrusting up into her, made my jealousy monster roar with rage.

“Drop it, Blair.” Lance’s voice was gruff, and I could tell I was getting on his nerves. But I just couldn’t stop. Intending to sound unaffected was having the opposite reaction.

Standing, I collected my plate on the tray along with all my trash and set it outside the hotel room door to be picked up. I didn’t have a suite this time, just a room with double beds. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Lance. It’s been five years since we were together. It’s completely natural to have someone else. Tell me about her.”

My stomach felt like I was carving it out with a large serving spoon. Walking back to the table, I sat with my legs folded underneath my body and my arms wrapped around my torso.

When he didn’t respond, I let my mouth run wild. “I dated after we split. It wasn’t great, actually. With PTSD, I think I scared the Hell out of him at night with night terrors. And my mood swings made the next one mad. Like, _mad mad_. He thought I was playing with him. After that, I kind of gave up on the whole thing. Needed to work on myself, you know?”

All but throwing his phone on the bed, Lance was on his feet and in front of me, gripping my arms in his hands and hauling me upright before I even registered he moved. “We didn’t split up, Blair. You left me!”

Scoffing at him, I pressed my hands against his chest to push him away. He didn’t budge. His scent was making my brain spin and my stomach fluttery. “You know what I meant, Lance. No need to get huffy.”

His eyes turned to steel and he clenched his teeth. “Huffy? You know, Blair, I’m real sick of you acting like you didn’t bail on me. Like everything is fine between us and no other explanations are needed. I’ve been patient, but don’t think that I’m not aware you are hiding something.”

All I could do was glare at him. His hands were still gripping my arms, not in a way that could hurt me, but in a way that said he wasn’t letting me walk away this time. “Never once did I act like everything was fine between us. I’m trying to be civil. It wasn’t my idea to bring you here. How long are you going to hold that over my head, Lance? Huh? I left. I know. It was stupid, but I did it and I can’t take it back.

At the back of my throat, I could feel the tears start to choke me. God, I didn’t want to cry in front of him.

Finally, he let me go and crossed the room near the door. Leaning against the wall, he closed his eyes and bowed his head. “I want to be here for you. I do. Somehow, I do my best work when I’m around you. And the idea of something happening to you guts me, Blair. Absolutely just tears me apart. So, I think we need to hash this out. Right now. Both of us just unload and see if we can clear this up.”

“I think you already said what you wanted to say but,” rubbing my arms where his hands had been, I bit my lip. “Is that really a good idea?”

Turning his head to look at me, Lance shrugged. “There is a lot of tension between us.”

It was that simple. We couldn’t keep dancing around each other. Lance was here to stay apparently. I couldn’t run off this time. Somehow, we had been brought back together, and maybe that was the Universe telling us we needed to work things out. Even if that meant as friends.

I sat back down in the chair and watched as he resumed his seat on the bed. “I didn’t leave because you killed Jake.” I all but blurted it out, but his words from earlier in the week had kept me up at night.

He kept his head lowered and didn’t make eye contact with me. Lance seemed nervous, a state I had never seen him in before. “Then why?”

As much as I didn’t want him to ask me that question, I was fully prepared for it. Maybe it was about time I confessed everything. Anna had suggested it, saying it would lessen my stress and anxiety. But how did you tell the man you loved that you ran away because you were a coward?

Resting my chin on my knee, I peered at him, watching for his reaction. “I was scared. When we were in that place on the mountainside, it felt like we were playing house. Even with all the security and caution, we were insulated there. I couldn’t imagine how that would translate to the real world. You would leave for weeks or months to your next assignment, leaving me alone. Jake would do that. Leave me.”

Lance lifted his head, a protest in his eyes, but I continued.

“And sometimes, you would be hot and cold. Professional and casual. It was very confusing. Jake was like that as well before he went completely off the rails. Reality came crashing down on me in that house, Lance. Jake’s death was a breath of fresh air. I don’t care if that makes me a bad person. I couldn’t see a way to go from Jake to you and make it work.”

I had Lance’s full attention now, his head up, back ramrod straight, and his fists clenched on his thighs. “I hate that I understand that reasoning. Because it still hurts, Blair. But I get it. I see the comparison, and while it really makes me want to punch something, being compared to that fucker, I understand. But why could you not tell me that?”

Lowering my lashes so he couldn’t see my shame, I answered. “Because if you would have asked me to stay, I would have.”

We were both silent for a while before he spoke again. “I would have stayed too.”

Not understanding his comment, I furrowed my brow.

Lance relaxed his hands and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His white shirt stretched across his back muscles and I swallowed hard. God, he looked amazing dressed up. “If we would have stayed together after….you know. I could have found a job anywhere, stayed local, worked nine to five somewhere. Baby, if it meant coming home to you, I would have worked security at the hardware store.”

My heart seemed to rise into my throat as his words sank in. Tears prickled at my eyes and I couldn’t help but look at him with pure adoration. “Really? You would have?”

He locked eyes with me so I would understand his conviction. “There isn’t anything in this world I would not do for you, Blair.”


	34. Chapter 34

Something had woken me up. In the dark of the room, the only light coming from the streetlamps outside, I blinked my eyes to try to clear my mind. I had been dreaming, something nice for once. Laying there for a moment, the soft mattress and blankets making me want to drift back off to sleep, I heard it again. The noise that had woken me.

It was a whimper. Deep, not sharp and whiney, like a puppy, but like a groan of pain. Lifting my head off the pillow, I looked over at Lance sleeping in the other bed. His blankets had been thrown off onto the floor, his loose hair spilled around him on the bed, and his fists were against his chest, clenched tightly.

Another sound came from his chest, a protest, and my heart squeezed hard. He was having a nightmare.

Sitting up, clasping the blankets to my neck as if they could protect me, I whispered at him. “Lance. Lance. Wake up, you’re dreaming.”

Lance moaned, his head tossing on the pillow. Groaning, his hand shot up off the bed as if reaching for something, and then fell back down to his side. His bare chest gleamed with sweat in the lamplight, heaving with ragged breaths.

I had never known Lance to have dreams or nightmares, not vivid enough for him to thrash in his sleep. “Lance!” I tried again.

When he didn’t respond, I made a decision. Whatever he was dreaming about was bad, and I couldn’t stand to see him so distraught. Throwing the covers off my bare legs, I crossed the short distance to his bed. Leaning a knee next to his hip to reach him, I put my hands on his shoulders.

“Hey, Lance. Come on, honey. Wake up.”

His eyes fluttered and one hand came up to rest on my arm as he opened them. “Huh? What?”

I have him a reassuring smile. “You were dreaming. Are you ok?”

Panic melted from his expression and before I could react, he hauled me into his arms. I was sprawled across his chest, my face in his neck, my knees on either side of his hips. Lance’s arms were a steel band around my body, and he nuzzled my hair. “Thank God you are still here.” His words fluttered against my hair, soft and barely there, but I heard him.

It was then that I realized he was dreaming about me leaving him. My heart squeezed with guilt and I struggled to get my arms untangled from his. Once I did, I held him close. “I’m here,” I reassured him. Leaning back so I could look at him in the dim light, I gave him a small smile. “See? Here I am.”

His fingers flexed as if verifying his reality, digging into my skin. I didn’t care. He seemed to take in my face, how I felt against him, even how I smelled as he ran his nose from my neck to my shoulder. Lance pushed my shirt aside and kissed my skin. “Blair.”

Lance’s soft kiss to my shoulder made my body melt against him. I was only in panties and a t-shirt. Lance himself only wore boxers. I was crouched above him, my chest to his, cradling his hips between my legs, and I felt the evidence of his arousal against my soft flesh even through our clothes and the sheets.

My blood heated up and I cradled his face in my hands. So strong, stoic, yet willing to smile or laugh to ease my tension. My true hero, not one of fantasies or dreams. Lance was rooted in reality. Biting my lip, I hesitated only a moment before dipping my head down to press a soft kiss against his lips.

A spark ran between us and his eyes widened. “Baby?”

My hips shifted of their own accord, rubbing against his length. I wanted him, in more ways than I could verbalize, and I hoped he still wanted me. “Let me show you I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Kissing him again, running my tongue along the seam of his lips, I waited with bated breath as he made his decision. It felt as if it took an age, and my confidence began to take a hit as I tried to wait patiently. I wasn’t running from him again and there was a part of me that expected him to push me away.

In a flash, one of Lance’s hands speared through my hair and gripped hard, bringing me to his mouth hungrily. I gasped, losing myself in his passionate kiss. Wetness soaked my panties and I rocked myself against him harder, trying to alleviate the tension. With a free hand I shoved the sheets down to the end of the bed, wanting to feel every bit of him against me that I could.

Lance’s hips bucked against me and he groaned. “I’m never letting you go again,” he whispered against my lips before he took my breath away with another kiss.

I didn’t want him to, but I had no words to tell him that. All I could do was hold on as he punished me with his mouth. And that’s what it was. I could feel his hurt and tension in his shoulders under my hands, his stinging bites on my lips before he laved them to soothe the pain. Lance was not a man to lose control, but I could feel it slipping.

And if he was going to lose himself, he was going to lose himself to me.

Using my hands on his chest, I pushed away from him to sit upright, ignoring his protest. Keeping my eyes on his, I slithered down his body, touching every piece of exposed skin I could with my hands and mouth. Feathering kisses on his stomach, running my nose along his hip bones, my hands rubbing his thighs.

Thankful the blankets were already on the floor, I straddled one of his legs and whipped my t-shirt over my head, exposing my breasts to the streetlight and his gaze.

“Fuck, Blair. I missed seeing you.” Lance’s hands reached for me, but I brushed them aside. I was on a mission.

“Did you?” I asked, leaning over him. I left a small kiss on his chest, allowing my breasts to dance over his cloth covered cock. “How much?”

It might have been cruel, asking him that question. I left, not Lance. He shouldn’t have to tell me how much he missed me, but I needed him distracted for just a moment while I planned my next step. His dick strained, begging to be let loose.

He groaned, tilting his head back as I kissed his jaw line. I loved how his beard felt against my lips. “I was drowning without you, Baby. I’d be in a meeting with a new client and I’d suddenly think of you and my cock would get so hard.”

As if to prove it, he pressed his hips against my stomach. To reward him, and myself, I again made my way back down his body. Reaching my hand inside his boxers, I almost moaned from the heat that was exuding from his cock pressed into my hand.

Lance grunted, his eyes locking on my mine. “Every night in my dreams I’d fuck you everyway I could think of. Against walls. In a park. I’d dream of fingering you in a restaurant.”

I rubbed my legs together at that thought. Pulling him from his boxers I took him in. Thick and long, it was as if I could still feel him inside of me from five years ago. He had branded me, and I didn’t even realize it.

Needing to taste him, I ran my tongue around his broad head, enjoying the sounds he made in the back of his throat. One hand gripped the sheets at his hip and the other tunneled into my hair. It was at that moment that I realized I’d never had Lance in my mouth before, and I was suddenly ravenous.

I took him deep to the back of my throat, wrapping my fingers around the base of his cock. My tongue moved over his length as I bobbed my head, pressure from my lips making Lance’s body go stiff.

“Shit, Blair! I dreamed of this too. Under desks. At breakfast. In the shower. I imagined you everywhere, Baby.”

Tears pricked my eyes. How much time had we lost because I was a coward?

He went quiet except for those sexy sounds he made and light praise that made my whole body glow. Pulling back to suckle at the head of his cock, I watched him as I licked that sensitive spot. His eyes were hooded, precum flowing into my mouth at a steady rate. My own thighs were covered in my juices. As much as I just wanted to impale myself on his cock, I forced myself to have some patience. This was for Lance. He deserved to have someone take care of him for once.

I took him in my mouth again, jacking him off with my hand. My other hand rubbed his thigh and balls, loving how tense his muscles were. He was holding back, and I smothered a smirk.

“Baby, please,” he begged. It was music to my ears. Years ago, he had bragged he wouldn’t touch me until I begged. Now, the tables were turned.

Pulling off of him, I kissed his hip and gave him a sultry look, still running my hand up and down his length. “Please what?”

Steel gray flashed in his eyes and he sat up, grabbing me under my arms and lifting me so that I hovered over his hard cock. “Move them.”

My pussy spasmed, knowing what he was about to do and feeling powerless to stop it. I wanted it, I wanted him, and in that moment, I was at his mercy. Reaching down, I moved my panties to the side, licking my lips as I watched him.

His whole body shook as he lowered me over his cock, and I braced my hands on his shoulders to control the pace. I was tight and Lance was huge. I knew he would fit, but my body resisted his for just a moment, a small pause in time that made me doubt it. It had been too long.

“Take all of me, Blair,” he growled.

Forcing myself to relax, I sank down his length all the way to the base, my pussy clenching every single inch. We sat chest to chest for a moment, both of us overwhelmed with emotions before he let me go and leaned back onto the bed, his hands behind his head.

“Ride me.”

The huskiness of his voice made me quiver. Lance was wholly focused on me, seemingly giving me control, but I knew better. Still, having that massive man beneath me made me feel confident and sexy. His gruff demands turned me on no matter where or what we were doing.

Again, I planted my hands on his chest and lifted my hips, crying out at the friction it caused. We were both so hot and eager, it took everything I had to not slam myself down over him again and again. I wanted this to last. I had missed having him nearby, in my arms, in me, and I was not going to waste this moment.

The cool air of the room pebbled my nipples and Lance reached up with one hand to pluck at them, seemingly relaxed as I picked up the pace. But I knew better. I could feel his muscles bunch each time my ass hit his thighs. Lifting his head, he suckled at one and then the other, sending darts of lightening through my body.

There was no way to stop the sounds coming from my throat. Soft cries and moans mixed with his occasional grunts as he thrusted up inside of me everytime I came down on him. His teeth and rough fingers on my breasts drove me wild and I needed his kiss desperately.

“Lance. Babe, please. Kiss me.” My words were soft, panted between thrusts, but he heard me.

He trailed his lips from my breast to my neck, shoulder, jaw and finally my mouth, capturing me in a soul searing kiss that blasted stars behind my eyes. My fingers dug into his chest, pleasure shooting through my veins.

My legs began to shake and I pulled away from him, lifting myself off of his dick and turning around before he could blink. I tugged both his boxers and my underwear off and tossing them to the floor. Settling back over him, I leaned forward to brace myself against the mattress between his legs and looking back at him over my shoulder.

“Better hang on, Baby,” I winked at him just as I slid my pussy back up and then down at the new angle. He stretched me perfectly in this position, hitting that precious spot inside that could propel me to the heavens.

“Fuck, Blair!” Lance propped himself up on his elbows, watching my ass dance in his lap as I controlled the pace. His hand came down and smacked one upturned cheek hard, then rubbing the sting away. “Yes, harder. Slide that hot pussy on my cock, Baby.”

My heart was in my throat, beating loudly. Our heavy breathing mixed and danced in the room, mingling with the sounds of skin against skin. My ass bounced as I grinded on his dick, taking my pleasure and giving it back to him in return.

“Mine.”

The word slipped out of my mouth and the movement of my body stuttered in shock. Sweat beaded my body, not from exertion, but from panic. Jake’s voice echoed in my head, his letters drifted across my vision like phantoms.

Lance gripped my waist and pulled me so that my back was against his chest and my legs draped over his as he sat up. He was still rock hard inside of me, but his hold was gentle and patient. For a moment, he was silent, allowing my heartbeat to slow down before he spoke.

“Am I yours, Blair?”

I could only nod. Yes. I had made that choice.

“He doesn’t own that word, Baby. It can mean something soft and secure. It doesn’t have to mean total possession.” Lance’s breath was against my ear and his body heat seemed to settle me.

“I’m sorry.” It was all I could say. I had intended this to be sexy and magical, our coming together after five long years, but had ruined it in a second. Blinking back tears, I kept my eyes cast down. I couldn’t look at him yet and see his disappointment.

Smoothing my hair away from the side of my face, he kissed my neck and then my cheek. “Blair, I want you to hear me when I say this, ok? Look at me.”

Clinging to his hands across my waist, I peered at him over my shoulder. His expression was stoic and serious, but full of love.

“I don’t care if I am mid-orgasm. If you start to panic we stop immediately. If you are on stage and need me, look at me and I’ll be right there to take you away. If you wake up in the middle of the night and just need me to hold you, Baby, I’m here. Your well-being comes before anything else. Understand?”

I melted against him, reassured. He had that ability to just calm me down and build me up at the same time. “I wanted this to be perfect.”

Refusing to pull out of me, Lance turned my body so that I was sitting side saddle on him. Wrapping my arms around his neck I kissed him lightly. With my legs closed, my pussy gripped him tightly.

His hands ran up and down my back and across my stomach, his hips moving almost mindlessly. “I want you to say it again. This time look at me and own the word. It’s not a bad word. We can make something special out of it if you want to.”

I did. I wanted to. Taking a deep breath, loving how safe and secure I felt with him, I repeated it with more confidence that I knew I had inside of me. “Mine.”

“Goddamn right, Baby. I’m yours. Let me show you.” Swinging his legs off the bed, Lance stood, carrying me in his arms. “Look right at me. Nowhere else.”

Gripping him tightly, cradled in his arms, I gasped as Lance fucked up into me, his thrusts hard and sure, intentional. His eyes burned with possession, a type of possession that told me I was the safest person on the planet and not a prisoner. His large hands gripped my ass and thigh, pinning me against his body, leaving bruises and red marks.

Crying out, I struggled to keep my gaze on his. I just wanted to close my eyes and soak in the love and passion he was exuding. If he wanted me to stare at him all night, I would. He was my holy grail. Touching him settled my mind and warmed my heart, and I wasn’t running from him anymore.

My clit throbbed and my pussy wept. I was desperate to cum but I wanted him to go with me. My body felt out of control and sweat covered both our bodies. “Please, Lance. Please. Make me cum.”

“Mine,” he growled as he snapped his hips up into me one final time before losing control. I went over the edge with him, smothering my screams in his shoulder, my nails digging into the back of his neck as my pussy clenched down hard over his shaft, seizing and sending shakes throughout my body.

With a grunt, Lance fell back onto the bed, holding me close. He rocked inside of me a few times and I felt his cum fill me up and drip onto my thighs. Breathing hard, we clung to each other, unwilling to let go.

Leaning down, Lance kissed me lovingly. “You are so screwed now.”

Giggling, I pushed him back so that he laid on the bed, pulling off of his softening shaft. The emptiness made me moan, but I ignored it. I picked up the blankets and covered us up and I crawled into his arms, resting my head on his shoulder.

“Tomorrow is going to look different, isn’t it?” I asked in the quiet of the room.

Lance’s fingers trailed down my back and he pressed his lips to my forehead. “Nope. Business as usual. But tomorrow night? Oh, Baby, tomorrow night is a whole other story.”


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends, sorry for the delay. I found TikTok and couldn't focus past 15 seconds for a few weeks.
> 
> And then, you know, the Thing happened on Wrestling Twitter, and I glared at Sammy for three days. I had to take a moment to figure out if I could continue this story with Sammy in it, and while it's not like I could delete him, it just marred my joy of this story.
> 
> But! I am so close to finishing, that I am going to just plunge ahead. Please forgive me, and stay safe and happy my friends. Reach out to someone if you need to <3

Sitting around a conference table with my book team the next morning, I realized how right Lance had been. Upon awakening, he had taken me again, loving me gently and passionately before we showered together and got ready for the day.

As soon as we walked out of the hotel room door, he was all business. Kip had been waiting for us and led the way to the small conference room on the bottom floor of the hotel, Lance behind me watching my back.

The room was a moderate size, with just the ten person table, chairs, and a sideboard alongside the wall. Directly opposite, with the table in the middle, were a bank of windows that displayed the courtyard of flowers and benches for the guests to use and enjoy the sunshine. Lance, Kip, and Spears were all standing in front of those windows, their backs to my team, eyes on the outside.

I could tell they made my team nervous. Nyla, my publicist, kept eyeballing Spears as he shifted from one foot to the other, and Brandi, my editor, looked like she was going to break out into a sweat at any moment.

Next to her was Matt Jackson, the cover editor, and he seemed oblivious to everything going on around him. Pushing a small stack of 8.5 x 14 glossy photos at me, he beamed. “These are the jacket options for the hard cover.”

Shifting in the leather office chair to get a better look, I had to smother a gasp. And it wasn’t due to the beautiful images on the table. Before we had left the room, Lance had taken my panties and tucked them in his pocket. My dress was tucked up underneath me, but I was hyper aware that I was bare and exposed, and it made me wet. Every brush of my thighs was sensual, a secret that only Lance and I shared.

While some things were the same, other things were drastically different.

We discussed font and coloring of the cover options. I was happy with the bio portion on the jacket and my photo, although I still found it strange that at the top on the front it read “New York Times Best Selling Author.” I didn’t think it would ever sink in.

“Great, Blair,” Brandi smiled at me, gathering her notes together. “We’ll make the changes and we’ll meet for a final review.”

Lance cleared his throat and turned his back to the window to address the room. Kip immediately took over scanning Lance’s side of the courtyard for danger, including it with his own. It was subtle, just a turn of his head, but I noticed.

“Lance Archer, head of Miss Corrigian’s security team,” he introduced himself. I remembered the first time I had heard him say my last name, and how much it had hurt. I hadn’t understood Lance’s professional side at the time. I had fallen head over heels for him and his words felt so impersonal. I knew better this time and I gave him a small smile.

Nyla held up her finger, nodding as she leaned to the side and picked up a box from the floor. It was brown, large enough to hold a couple of hardback books. “Sammy passed your request to me. Here is what has been delivered in the last week.”

Nyla slid the box across the table and Lance stepped forward to accept it. He gave her a nod. “Thank you. We’ll go through these looking for threats. I appreciate you keeping me in the loop.”

Brandi raised her eyebrow. “Mr. Archer, you misunderstand. Those are the threats.”

Lance’s eyes went cold as he picked up the box and held it in his hands. “All of these?”

Brandi nodded, her expression matching his own. I felt a chill go down my back. “Correct. Three hundred and fifty-four to be exact.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Spears’ shoulders tense, but he didn’t say a word. “Wait,” I pointed at the box. “There are that many threats in that box?”

“Any repeats?” Lance asked after Nyla’s nod to me.

Her long nails tapped on the table as if to punctuate the seriousness of the situation. “Yes. There is a note on top of the letters breaking that down for you and they are bundled according to sender.”

Sitting back in my chair, I tried to come to terms with what was going on around me. Anna and I had discussed many times my need to remove myself from the negativity in my fan mail, letting Santana, Ortiz, and Sammy deal with what was delivered to my PO Box, but I never realized my book team received it too. I didn’t ask questions and allowed myself to hide from triggers. Anna reminded me that was not bad in of itself, it was self preservation, but hiding my head in the sand was dangerous. I needed to find a way to deal with what was in front of me safely. I just didn’t know how yet.

Flicking my eyes at Brandi, I gave her a sheepish smile. “Any good stuff?”

Her eyes softened. “Of course, Blair. Tons of letters come in from women, and some men, who thank you for your voice and the awareness you are bringing.”

It had been six months since _Assignment_ had been released, and I had been missing out on the reason I spoke out in the first place. By removing myself from the fan mail process, I was punishing myself and others for my fears.

“I’d like to start seeing those please. And I know I already do autographs and such, but I’d like to think of another way to respond to those reaching out positively.”

Nyla patted my hand as she rose to her feet, Brandi and Matt doing the same. “We’ll bring some ideas to you at the next meeting.”

I nodded, watching the team leave the room, leaving me with Lance, Kip, and Spears. The three of them converged on the table, their bodies still between the window and me, and began looking through the letters.

I texted Sammy as a distraction. While I had realized I needed to be involved, I wasn’t ready to drop head first into it yet.

_Meeting done. Thought you were going to be here?_

Sammy was always by my side, but he had texted before I left my room that he was going to be late. _Sorry, was on the phone with Ortiz’s culinary school giving a reference. Took longer than I thought._

I smiled. _Did he get in?_

_Supposed to know next week_

Mentally, I crossed my fingers. Ortiz was a little crazy, with his wild hair, overalls, and loud mouth, but he was passionate. When he was hovering over a stove was just about the only time I had ever seen him not talking shit. It was adorable to see his concentration so focused.

“Blair.”

My head snapped up, locking eyes with Lance. He looked furious, and I wondered if I had done something wrong. “Yes?”

Dropping the papers in his hand, he nodded at Kip and Spears and circled the table to stand by my side. Gently but firmly he placed his hand under my elbow and pulled me to my feet. “We need to go, now.”

His friends watched with thinly veiled amusement, which was my only clue that nothing was seriously wrong. Otherwise I would have been in a full blown panic attack. “Everything ok?” My jersey dress shifted around my knees as I followed his guiding hand towards the door to the hallway.

“Keep moving. Don’t run.” Lance’s face was stern and focused, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he guided me to the elevator in the lobby.

“Lance, what is going on?” My heels clicked on the tile, elbow in his grip in the air. Sometimes, he forgot our height difference, and I was sure it looked to onlookers like he was gearing up to beat my ass or I was being kidnapped. Keeping a tight smile on my face to alleviate their concerns, I growled at Lance. “You are squeezing my arm.”

The elevator doors opened with a _ding_ and he hauled me inside, turned us in a half circle, and slapped the button to my floor, watching as the doors closed behind us.

Pressing my lips together, I waited patiently to see if he was going to answer me or continue dragging me throughout the hotel. As we reached the third floor, he dropped my arm and pressed the STOP button on the panel, halting the elevator.

“Lance,” I protested.

He ignored me. Picking up the emergency phone he spoke rapidly and gruffly. “Lance Archer, head of Miss Corrigian’s security team. Everything is fine. I’ll resume the elevator in a moment.” He hung up and whirled around to take my face in his hands and tilt it back as his lips crashed against mine.

I let out a surprised squeak of alarm, but immediately held him tight, melting against him as he devoured me. Lance walked me backwards so that I was against the wall, the grab bar against my back.

“I need you, Baby. Right now,” he whispered against my lips.

All I could do was hang on as he took my breath and claimed me. He seemed desperate and angry, but Lance handled me with care as he always did, disarming me enough so that I sank against him.

Pulling back, he leaned his forehead against mine, his breathing just as ragged as my own. A hand snaked down my chest, ribs, hip, and thigh to reach bare skin. Pushing my skirt up, he hiked my thigh up around his leg, holding me against his erection.

Gasping, I locked eyes with him, letting him read the plea in my expression.

“Your panties have been burning a hole in my pocket, Baby. I can feel them there, against my leg, and my cock just wants to be wrapped up in them.”

My breath hitched in my chest and I bit my lip. “I can think of something else to wrap you up in.”

He chuckled darkly, his large hand squeezing my naked hip while he trailed licks and bites across my collarbone. “Can you? Where do you want me, Blair?”

At this point I was on fire for him. Just a small touch, a smile, a laugh, and I was at Lance’s mercy. He could have told me to suck him off at my book meeting and I would have gotten on my knees with no hesitation. I wasn’t sure what that said about me, nor did I care.

Running my hands up his chest, I unbuttoned his shirt until I could press my lips to his chest. Flicking my eyes up to see his expression, I whispered against his skin, “My pussy, Lance. I want you in my pussy.”

With an agonized groan that vibrated in my bones, he picked me up underneath my arms and urged me to wrap my legs around his waist. I did so, rocking my core against his cloth covered erection, desperate to feel him in me.

Lance took my mouth even as my hands urgently unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, using my thighs to shove the material out of the way. We were desperate, savage in our kisses and touches, leaving marks and bruises and not giving a damn about what they would look like later. I needed Lance like I needed air. A moment without him felt like a lifetime, and looking at him from across the room was not enough for me. I wanted him inside me forever, for him to live there, and not having that felt like a punishment.

No words were spoken, no warning, no soft whispers. Lance just pinned me against the wall and shoved his cock deep inside me. I grunted at the sensation, the breath knocked out of me, but I held him tight, letting him know I was ok and wanted more.

Lance was unrestrained, brutal in his thrusts. I absorbed it all, tears leaking from my eyes. Clawing at his shoulders, I was desperate to feel his skin against mine, but unwilling to take the time to make that happen. I needed this passion from him, the animistic claiming, as he slammed his hips up and bruised my thighs.

We panted together, eyes locked, saying more than we could with words. Something was underlying, and we’d talk it out later, but not now. Now I just needed to feel him swell inside of me, his large body against mine, and his arms holding me tight. Using a thumb, he wiped my tears away.

“Fuck.” The word was carried on a breath, and I saw the tightness begin at his eyes. He was close, and I wanted to catch up.

Using my hips, I pushed against him, making him take a small step back as I leveraged my lower body off the elevator wall. The new angle had his cock hitting me just right, and I moaned as his thrusts got harder and shallower. I thought I called his name, but I wasn’t sure, my ears were ringing and my vision was blurry from tears I didn’t know why I was crying.

Lance’s broad chest puffed out. “Blair, baby, I’m so close. Come on.”

I took control. Placing one hand down on the grab rail, I dug my nails into his shoulder and used my hips to ride him hard, my dress flying up to pool at my stomach. My body rolled against his and our skin was dusted with sweat.

“Almost,” I whispered. Lance was struggling to hold back, to wait for me. But I knew what I needed to finish. “Now, Lance. Cum in me.”

His fingers dug deep into my hips and he clenched his teeth. At the first splash of cum, my own orgasm hit me like a roll of thunder. It started slow and steady and built into a leg shaking climax.

Panting, Lance gathered me closer in his arms, holding me against the wall as we caught our breath. “I can’t lose you, Blair. I just found you again.”

I was stunned at his moment of vulnerability, my chin on his shoulder. “You aren’t going to lose me, Lance. I’m right here.”

He shook his head and pulled back a little to kiss my temple. Keeping his lips pressed there, I felt his words against my skin more than I heard him. “Nothing can happen to you. I won’t survive it.”

It was at that moment that I realized the letters I had been receiving were bothering Lance more than I had thought. I was aware he was taking them seriously, but he was always so stoic and alert, that I just assumed he wasn’t worried.

“Lance, look at me.” I waited until he did, letting him gather himself together. As soon as we locked eyes, I gave him a soft smile. “I’m with you, and you have always kept me safe. If you want me to get back into self defense, I will. If you want me to cancel my book tour, I will. It will suck, I’ve worked really hard for this, but it means nothing if I’m in real danger. Am I in real danger, Lance?”

He hesitated, something that I couldn’t remember him doing before. Gently, he disentangled my legs from his hips and helped me stand. My legs were shaky so I held onto the grab bar tightly. Between my legs, I could feel cum wet my thighs, and I bit my lip feeling sultry and sexy.

Lance stepped close to me, once again pressing me against the wall. Looking down at me, making sure we locked eyes, he ran two fingers up the inside of my thigh and dipped them into my pussy.

I gasped, raising up on my tip toes. I was sore, deliciously sore, and I felt small quivers shake my core.

“Blair, I would never take your work away from you. You focus on that, and I’ll focus on you.” His mouth brushed my ear as he moved his fingers inside of me. “You know how good I am at focusing on you, don’t you?”

I could only nod, gasping as he pulled his fingers away, licked them with a twinkle in his eye, and slapped the emergency stop button on the wall panel before tucking his cock back into his pants.

“I got you, Baby.”


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blair gets additional security

My day to day didn’t change, but the mood around me did. Lance had brought two more of his security buddies on board, Colt Cabana and Dustin Rhodes, and they were in charge of securing the outside of every building I was in and every vehicle I was transported with.

Kip and Spears monitored my surroundings inside of public places, no different than before but with more intensity. Santana, Ortiz, and Sammy kept my daily life moving, keeping me busy and distracted as much as possible.

Until Penelope Ford showed up.

Over breakfast one morning, the entire team sitting together going over the plan for the day, in walked this blonde bombshell clad in leather from head to toe with a white crop top under her jacket and combat boots on her feet. Popping gum obnoxiously she walked up to Kip and put her arm around his neck, kissing him soundly on the mouth. “Hey Sexy.”

He grinned dazedly at her. “Well hello to you too.”

Lance rolled his eyes and turned to look at me. “Blair, Penelope Ford. Penelope, this is Blair. When I’m not with her, you are.”

Penelope nodded. And my mouth dropped. “Uh, what?”

Spears pointed his fork at Penelope. “She’s highly skilled at blending in and watching your back.”

Confusion was written on my face, I was sure of it. Santana, Ortiz, and Sammy all openly drooled over this woman who had perched herself on Kip’s lap and helped herself to his food. How in the world was she going to blend in anywhere? She was gorgeous, long blonde hair and prominent eyes with just the right amount of make up to make her look striking and alluring. It was no wonder the men around me were adjusting themselves under the table.

Except Lance. He was staring at me.

“Blair, is there a problem?” He had put his fork down and looked to be about to get up from his seat to move to my side.

I put my hand up to stop him. “I just don’t know what’s going on.”

Kip shrugged, his eyes locked on Penelope with adoration. “Penelope is my fiancé, but she’s apart of our security detail. She’s here to be your personal security when Archer can’t be.”

Realization dawned on me. “No. Absolutely not!”

Penelope snorted. “Relax, you don’t have anything I’ve never seen before.”

I was sure my face was bright red. “No one needs to watch me pee or shower! I’m not in danger in a bathroom!”

For the first time, I saw seriousness cross the woman’s face. “Do you know where a woman is most vulnerable?” She didn’t wait for my guess. “It’s in public bathrooms. I’m not watching you pee or shower, Blair. I’m checking stalls to make sure that when your guard and your pants are down, a gun isn’t put to your head.”

My mouth snapped shut and my hand fell to my thigh where my knife was strapped. I was fully prepared to use it, but I hoped to never have to again. Seeing the cold look in Penelope’s eyes, I saw zero hesitation to do what she needed to do. Maybe she was right.

“Fine.” Looking at Lance I tried to keep a straight face. “As head of my security, I expect you are going to address dress code, correct? Leather and crop tops do not blend in.”

He smirked and I bit my lip. “Yeah, Blair, she’s aware of the dress code.” Turning to look at the newcomer he raised his eyebrow. “And I expect she is on her way to change right now.”

Penelope snorted and rolled her eyes. Kissing Kip quickly, she stood and sashayed out of the room, all male eyes following her with different expressions on their faces.

I sighed, pushing my food around on my plate. “Are you guys going to be able to keep your jaws off the ground long enough to keep an eye on my safety or do I need to hire a different crew?”

All heads snapped towards me and protests rang out around the table. From the corner of my eye I saw Lance’s hand bunch into a fist, but I was looking at Kip and Ortiz specifically.

“When it’s game time, we are strictly professional, Blair, you know that!” Kip pointed at me, then immediately lowered his finger when Lance glared at him.

Shaking my head, I stood from the table. “I can’t wait to see how this is going to work out. Maybe we should put you outside with Dustin and Colt. Fresh air might do you some good.”

There were a few chuckles from the guys, but I didn’t join in. I was hoping to get a better read on Penelope. Having another woman around might not be so bad as soon as I got used to the new routine.

Lance asked Spears to take care of his plate and joined me when I indicated I was ready to leave. Kissing my temple, he opened the door and looked down the hallway before allowing me to step out of the room. It was times like these that I wished I could reach out and hold Lance’s hand as we walked. I refrained, understanding his need to be professional. I felt bad for doubting Kip and Penelope. If Lance had brought her on board, she had to have been top notch, and I trusted his team. If Lance and I could be professional, so could Kip and his fiancé.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving the story along. Next stop, San Fran!

“Stu Grayson has been sighted in San Francisco.”

The words rang in my ears and I gripped my seat. Spears’ announcement had come at the worst time, as the plane was taxiing down the runway and picking up speed, the pilot preparing to launch us into the air. My breath was caught in my chest and at my side, I saw Lance twist in his seat and bark an order at Spears. I couldn’t hear what he said over the roar of the engines. Focusing on my breathing, I closed my eyes and dreamed I was in a remote cabin with a fire going and a good book in my hands.

I felt the plane level off and I opened my eyes to find Lance reaching over to grip the back of my neck in his large hand, pulling me against his body. Immediately I felt better, and I pressed my lips to his shirt in a gentle ode him.

My entire crew surrounded me, Spears, Kip, and Sammy in front of me, Ortiz and Santana across the aisle, apart from Dustin and Colt. They were already in San Francisco checking out the hotel and vehicles we were renting. The information must have come from them.

Spears was still talking to someone, but Lance’s attention was focused on me, making sure I wasn’t panicking. All I could do was give him a weak smile. A sense of dread filled my gut but I didn’t understand why. It had settled there when we left the hotel, Penelope and Lance, both dressed in suits, keeping me pinned between them.

I was slowly warming up to Penelope. True to their word, she and Kip were nothing but professional, and occasionally her dry sense of humor would make me smile. But she kept a wall up, occasionally making a snide comment that soured my mood on her again. I hoped one day we’d be able to find a rhythm that worked for us.

I felt as if I was going to my own execution. The book symposium in San Francisco was a chance to network and promote both of my books. I had been looking forward to it, and the two weeks off afterwards, but now I wished I had a little more time before making the trip to the West Coast.

“Spears, I swear to God, shut up.” At my side, against the window, Penelope glared at Spears from between our seats. Rolling her eyes, she settled back in her seat and gave me a wink and a smile.

Lance’s hand massaged my neck and I looked up at him. “I want to go to the mountains. Just you and me.”

Looking down at me, Lance searched my face. “Do you want to go home, Baby?”

My heart stuttered in my chest. Yes. I wanted to go back to the house in the mountains where we had made our last stand against Jake. Logically, it made no sense. I should have never wanted to see that place again, but there was a piece of me that yearned to use that house as our starting point. I needed a reset, and if I was honest with myself, Lance’s home was where I felt safest.

Nodding, I closed my eyes as he kissed my forehead. “I’ll make it happen.”

I knew he would and I felt myself settle down, imagining the trees and valleys, the couch where we had made love and the table he had fucked me on. Yes, I wanted that again. Desperately. I didn’t think of Jake when I thought of Lance’s home. I wondered if I needed to bring it up to Anna before I committed fully to the idea. The last thing I needed was to tailspin as soon as I set foot across the threshold.

To my surprise, I had fallen asleep, awakening when the plane began its decent into California and Lance was speaking to Penelope over my head.

“Stay alert. When we get on the ground she sometimes has anxiety attacks. Follow my lead.”

Keeping my eyes closed and breathing steady, I waited for Penelope to make a snide comment about my mental health, but she didn’t. I paid this security crew to protect me, not deal with my idiosyncrasies, yet not once did they make me feel like a burden. Tears pricked at my eyes in gratitude so buried my face against Lance so no one would see.

Thankfully, we landed and disembarked the plane with no issues. The team was quiet as we picked up our baggage, encircling me in a way that was less obvious to those not paying attention.

“Penelope,” I called to her. She was standing next to Kip hauling bags off the conveyor belt. She immediately looked up at me. “Restroom.”

Without missing a beat, Spears took her spot and she and Lance walked me to the women’s bathroom. Penelope’s hair was in a French braid and her suit was perfectly tailored to fit her lithe body. Her black low-heeled boots were practical yet stylish. She looked like any other businesswoman on a trip, and I admitted to myself that she did in fact blend in.

“Wait here,” she murmured to me as she entered the bathroom. Lance stood next to me, keeping his eye on the moving crowd. She was only gone a minute, no more, and then she opened the door and waved me in. “Stall three is clear. Last stall has an occupant. I’ll be at the sink washing my hands.”

Nodding at her succinct report, I was mildly amused that I understood what she was telling me. Go to the third stall, away from the occupied one at the end. She would stand guard at the sink watching anyone entering or exiting.

I tried to hurry. My bare thigh made me anxious, as I couldn’t take my knife on the plane. Pulling out my phone as I used the toilet, I texted Lance.

_Knife_

His response was quick. _On it._

Communication with my team didn’t need complete sentences apparently. We were all working as a unit and I felt really good about it. The crew kept growing, and soon we were going to be obvious to those watching. Press would be at the symposium, and Lance had made it clear he would work with the convention’s security, but he would not trust them with my safety.

I didn’t know what that meant or how that was going to work, but I knew he’d let me know when it was time.

“Blair?” Penelope checked in.

“I’m done.” Flushing and adjusting my dress I stepped out to wash my hands. My eyes cast down to the last stall and then met Penelope’s in the mirror. No one had come in or out of that stall in the few minutes I’d been in the restroom, and I knew that made her nervous.

We both dried our hands and left to rejoin Lance and the team, who had all of our bags grouped together.

Lance pulled me close to his side. “Dustin and Colt are outside with the vehicles. Let’s go.”

Once again, I was surrounded and as a unit hauling luggage and bags, we moved outside to find Dustin and Colt waiting for us with two black SUVs. Splitting up, Penelope, Kip, Colt, Lance and I in one vehicle, and Dustin, Sammy, Ortiz, Santana and Spears in the other.

Lance all but tossed me in the backseat and shut the door, leaving me alone as everyone packed the bags in the two SUVs. With the back hatch open, I could see and hear them, but I chose to just get comfortable in the middle of the seat, putting my seat belt on and waiting. Shortly, the hatch closed and Lance slid in next to me. Colt, Kip and Penelope were speaking to Dustin and I could see them through the windshield.

“They are talking about routes. Here Baby.”

I looked down as I felt Lance’s hand on my thigh, pushing my dress up to expose my skin. A shiver ran down my spine watching his large hands dip between my legs.

“Lift.”

I did as instructed, using my foot to lift my thigh off the seat. Lance’s warm body next to mine seemed to seep into me and I felt a chill of anticipation. He dipped his head to press a kiss against my neck and from somewhere I didn’t see, he pulled out my knife holster, slipping it under my leg and using the Velcro straps to secure it snuggly.

My breath seemed staggered and I was riveted to his smooth deft actions. The knuckles on his hands casually brushed against my core and I bit my lip, resisting the urge to squirm against him.

“If the team climbed in right now, would you stop me?” Lance asked against my ear. He was now leaning his forehead against my temple, intentionally taking his time sliding my knife into the holster. His hands were so sexy to me, every place he touched sent my blood afire.

“No,” I panted.

I saw his grin out of the corner of my eye. As he straightened up, he slipped a finger past my panties and into my core like a homing device, pushing deep only once before withdrawing and popping the finger into his mouth.

I gasped and moaned in disappointment snapping my legs closed and pushing my dress down as Colt opened the driver’s side door and climbed in. A moment later, Penelope and Kip did the same.

Beside me, Penelope gave me a weird look, her nose wrinkling just a bit before rolling her eyes and turning her head to look out the window. A savage blush covered my body, but I pressed myself against Lance’s side, absorbing his sexual energy.

He had me in the palm of his hand, and I didn’t care one bit.


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The book symposium doesn't go as planned

Throngs of people were everywhere. They milled around talking, laughing, comparing notes, eating, drinking, and every other interaction a human could have all in one very large space. The noise was deafening echoing off steel beams and glass panes.

I had been in San Francisco for two days and was participating in the second day of the book symposium. I had a signing and a Q&A session to attend to, but first was media and press. Penelope and Spears were in the green room with me as a round robin of reporters came and went through the space and I answered the same questions over and over again.

The room was currently rather small, feeling like a dark box with two spotlights and too much equipment in it. But on either side were thick partition walls that could be opened to make the room bigger.

Lance was not with me, which made me uncomfortable. I wanted him nearby, but I trusted him. He was the head of my security team and he needed to be sure everything was in place at each stage of my day. I knew leaving me was hard for him, so I made it a point to follow Spears and Penelope’s instructions, trying not to cause any undue stress.

I knew Grayson was in the city. I didn’t know what that meant though, or why everyone was on high alert. I didn’t know the man threatening me, or why he had such an aversion to my work, and I didn’t feel as if there was a high risk involved in being in public, but my book team and the security team did not agree, so I followed their lead. As long as my work was not impeded, I’d do what they said.

Sammy, Ortiz, and Santana stayed at the hotel, which was attached to the convention building. They were not trained in public security, nor personal for that matter, and Lance thought they might pose too much of a risk if there was an emergency.

They took the news well, surprisingly. My friends were protective of me, as I was of them, but I was grateful they knew when to take a step back and allow the professionals to do their jobs.

“Blair?”

Realizing I had spaced out, I looked up at Spears. “Sorry, yeah?”

He didn’t smile at me, which wasn’t surprising. Spears had two modes, serious and serious. “Ortiz sent you lunch. You have about twenty minutes before TV interviews start again.”

I smiled faintly at the sweetness of Ortiz. Climbing down from my chair I reached out and took the to-go container from Spears and moved to a small desk tucked in a dark corner. Penelope handed me a water.

“Sammy sent your toothbrush,” she mentioned, handing me a small bag.

Sweet Sammy. I really had the best friends anyone could ever have. “Awesome.” I sent my boys a quick thank you text and began eating. It was quiet in the room, just the three of us, and awkwardness crept in.

“So uh, is there anything the two of you want to see while you are here?” I didn’t even know if they read as a hobby. I felt stupid for asking.

Spears was standing in front of the door, his back to it facing the room. “We’re working. We don’t have a chance to look around.”

Feeling bad, I looked down at my food. “I’m sure we can arrange something. I’ll mention it to Lance.”

Penelope, standing against the wall next to the small desk I was at, snorted. “Archer is not going to let us galivant around while you need watching.”

“Ford,” Spears snapped. “Uncalled for.”

She rolled her eyes. She was in a mood today. “It’s true and we all know it. We’re all shackled to her for the foreseeable future.”

I couldn’t get a read on Penelope. She was never very friendly, nor was she cold. She seemed lukewarm to everything going on around her, except Kip. That was the only time I saw the ice thaw in her eyes. Her words were the first time she had ever made guarding me seem inconvenient to her, and I didn’t know how I felt about that.

A knock on the door had Spears turning and opening it slightly, enough for him to see out but no one to see in. He exchanged words with whoever was out there and stepped back to close the door. “Ford, the camera guy needs to come in to check to make sure everything is good to get for the next segment. Keep Blair behind you.”

She nodded and moved so that she was blocking my view of the door, and presumably whoever was about to come inside the room. This was new to me. In the last few weeks of having the security team with me, none of them had ever stood between me and another person. Peeking around her body, I saw a man, under six feet tall, with a baseball cap on his head hiding his eyes, wearing a black shirt and black jeans ease his way into the room and straight to the camera behind the chair I sat in for interviews.

Not once did he look at me or look my way, but the vibe I got from him gave me chills, and I found myself gripping my forearm, where I had strapped my knife that day under my long sleeved blouse. It was a rookie move, and any trained eye would know I was reassuring myself. Lance had constantly nagged at me to not give myself away, but this man had the hair on the back of my neck standing up.

I wanted Lance with me. I felt safer with him, but no way was I going to ask for him. I trusted Spears and Penelope, I trusted myself, and all we could do was keep watch and be vigilant.

The man moved to the opposite camera, the one closest to the door behind the reporter’s chairs, standing between the equipment and Spears. They both stared at the newcomer with laser focus, uncaring if he knew it or not. He was wearing leather gloves, which I found odd, and his gaze never shifted from the camera as he worked on it.

For about five minutes, the room was dead silent. When the man was done, he gathered his toolbag I didn’t notice before, something else Lance would have rolled his eyes at, nodded to Spears once, and left the room.

Immediately, Spear stalked over to the camera by my chair, giving the first one a cursory glance, and looked it over, every nook and cranny, the base, the stand, the floor where the bag had rested. Seemingly satisfied, he looked at Penelope and she moved back over to the wall.

“Two minutes, Blair,” she reminded.

Groaning, I shoved the rest of my food in my mouth and chewed hurriedly before rushing to the bathroom to brush my teeth and fix my lip gloss. When I returned from the bathroom, the room was abuzz with activity. The partition doors were being opened to expand the room and people moved equipment in or out, depending on the need, makeup and hair experts fluffed up the reporters, and generally ignored Spears and Penelope, who was standing right outside of the bathroom.

The amount of people in the space was making me anxious. Trying to hold my composure, I smiled when introduced to the on-screen crew, shaking hands and making polite small talk as needed. Taking my seat, I watched as the crew moved to the walls, leaving me and the two reporters alone in the middle of the room under the spotlights.

The questions were generic, ones I had answered before, but I kept a smile on my face and politeness in my tone, striving to sound engaged and not bored out of my mind.

A faint beeping kept distracting me. It was low in volume, but high in pitch, periodically going off. There didn’t seem to be a rhythm to it, and I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. My eyes roamed the room even while trying to pay attention and be witty in my responses.

Landing on Spears, I tried to convey with my eyes that something was going on. He stared at me for a moment, not understanding why I was looking at him. The beeping began to get faster in increments. I only noticed because I had began tapping out the rhythm on my leg. Spears’ head whipped from left to right, taking in the room.

“Stop,” he announced, his tone firm and clear. “We need to stop. Clear the room. Right now.”

A man from behind the camera scoffed. “We are live, with a ten second delay, man. We can’t stop.”

“Now!” Spears demanded. “Blair, come here.”

I was already rising from my chair, fear shooting through me. Near the door, the man that had entered earlier to check the cameras slipped from the room, and I caught a small smirk on his lips. Chaos erupted around me, Spears and Penelope trying to herd people out of the room while also trying to reach me. I kept getting cut off as people pushed past, and the beeping was getting faster.

“Where is it!” Penelope shouted over the complaints and shrieks.

“Where is what?” I asked, even though she wasn’t asking me. She was looking at Spears as her hand finally touched mine and gripped hard, yanking me to her side.

Spears shook his head and pressed the button on his jacket to activate his radio. “Archer, we have a situation. There is a bomb in the room. We are evacuating now. Alert security and clear the building.”

A bomb. The beeping that had been driving me nuts was a bomb. Panic flooded my nervous system and I stood still in shock.

Penelope shoved me in the back to get me moving towards the door and I stumbled but kept my footing. Spears was in front of me, leading the way. We skirted around the chairs, lights, and the cameras, and as we did so, I saw a small piece of clay with red and green wires trailing from the one by the door. I knew nothing about bombs except what I had seen on TV, but my inner radar was blaring in my head.

Near the base of the camera was a small digital timer and it was showing five seconds. Four seconds. Three seconds. Two seconds.


	39. Chapter 39

One second. Without even thinking, I grabbed Penelope and dove towards the desk where I had eaten my food earlier. Somehow I managed to drag her, flip the table, and hide us both just as the bomb exploded. Right behind it, another bomb went off near the door where I had seen Spears disappear. I screamed, cowering beside Penelope as shrapnel and fire rained down around us. The lights went out, and electricity crackled above us, smoke filling the air. What was once a square room was now a mangled mess of blown out walls, torn furniture, and fire. My right side burned from my arm to my thigh, but I was so dazed from the concussion of both bombs I couldn’t orient myself to look to see what was causing the pain.

The desk had been blown backwards against the wall, pinning us there. Through blurred eyes I found Penelope slumped over, her head on the leg of the desk, blood seeping from her temple. Our clothes were burned and singed, covered in soot. Fire surrounded us and I wondered why the sprinklers hadn’t gone off.

“Penelope?” I croaked, reaching over with my left arm to touch her. She wasn’t moving. Trying to shift so I could check on her, the right side of my body screeched in pain and I groaned. I couldn’t move.

“Blair! Blair! Penelope! Answer me!”

It was Spears, and I almost cried in relief. “Spears! Are you ok?”

“Fuck, thank God,” I heard him mutter. “I’m fine.”

I again looked at Penelope and put my fingers against her neck, relieved to feel her pulse. “Penelope is unconscious. She has a pulse. Spears,” I heard the fear in my voice. “We’re pinned.”

He was silent, but I heard movement on the other side of the door. The door itself and the wall were blown to pieces, caving in on itself and blocking the entrance to the hallway where Spears was. “Ok Blair, listen to me. I can’t get to you from here. I have to go around to the other side. I need you to hang on for me, ok?”

I felt tears on my cheeks. My eyes were stinging from the smoke and the fire was getting closer. The heat made me feel smothered. Clearing my throat, I answered him. “Ok. We aren’t going anywhere.”

I heard him mutter curses under his breath at my ill-timed attempt to be funny. Closing my eyes, I put my hand on Penelope’s arm, just to keep us together. I had an irrational fear that she was going to disappear and I was going to be left here alone. When I reopened my eyes, I took a deep breath and looked down at my right side, gasping at the damage done there.

I was wearing a green full sleeved blouse, and ripped and burned during the blast. Charred skin ran from my shoulder to my elbow, and then from mid-forearm to my wrist, with soot covering the rest of my arm. My right leg was in similar shape, my thigh burned through my slacks, but my calf and foot were fine.

Looking away, I pushed down the urge to be sick. I checked Penelope’s pulse again, just to reassure myself.

“Blair!”

Lance’s voice cut through the air and my heart stuttered. “Lance!”

Looking past Penelope into the adjacent room, I saw Spears and Lance tossing furniture and debris to the side, clearing a path. Behind them, firemen seemed to be urging them out of the room, but they steadfastly ignored them. Spears looked at bad as we did, but he was on his feet, blood trickling across his eyebrow and I saw scratches on his neck. At the door where they had entered, I saw Kip staring at Penelope, his face ashen white in horror.

“She’s alive, Kip,” I reassured him the best I could over the noise. “She was knocked out.”

I didn’t know if my words had helped him because Lance was there in front of me, his hands holding my face as he kissed me deeply.

“Ow, ow, ow!” I hissed, my body protesting any movement. Looking up at Lance, I blinked back tears at the expression on his face. He looked terrified and devastated. “I’m ok. I promise. I’m ok.”

“I should have been here, dammit.” He let me rest back against the wall and looked down at the desk that was pinning us.

Shaking my head, I coughed against the smoke. “If you were here, you wouldn’t be able to get us out, Lance.”

He growled. Signaling Spears to hold Penelope up, he lifted the desk off our legs and all but threw it across the room. The move woke Penelope up and she gasped, reaching down to cover her left leg. Groaning, she blinked her eyes up at Spears.

“Blair?”

He nodded at her and then looked over his shoulder at Kip while he answered. “She’s ok, Kip. Maybe a broken leg.”

I squeezed Penelope’s arm. “I’m right here. I’m ok.”

She didn’t move her head from Spears’ arm, but she frowned heavily. “Archer, she protected me.”

The fury in Lance’s face sucked all the air out of the room. Gathering me in his arms, trying to not jostle my right side, he bit out his words. “Fucking foolish, Blair.”

Firefighters surrounded Penelope with a backboard as Lance carried me past. I encircled my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shoulder. I could feel his anger vibrating through his body, but I knew it wasn’t directed at me. The situation was his worst nightmare.

“I’m ok,” I whispered, trying to convince him that we were fine. “Baby, look at me.”

Passing Kip and the firefighter holding him back, Lance’s face was stone cold. “I can’t look at you, Blair, because all I’ll see are the burns, and the smoke covering your face, and your tears. I can’t look at you yet.”

Resting my forehead against him, I silently cried. Terror was causing my body to shake. “Did you get him?”

“Yeah, we got him.”

I left it at that. I didn’t want to know any details yet. I just wanted to be away from the chaos and the pain. Lance delivered me to the EMTs and I was loaded on a stretcher and into an Ambulance. He stayed with me the whole time, his face drawn and closed down with stress.

I watched him, ignoring my own pain, focusing on holding his hand. I hoped I gave him the same strength that he gave me, but he was quiet, watching the EMTs work on me as we traveled down the road to the hospital.

“Lance, I love you.”

He finally looked at me and squeezed my hand. “I love you, Baby.”


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three Weeks Later....

I awoke to feeling Lance part my legs and lay his head on my thigh. I was on my left side, curled around a pillow, as my right side was still healing. Looking down, I found his beautiful eyes staring up at me, urging me to wrap my legs around his neck.

“I need to taste you, Baby. Open up.”

I sighed in contentment. As soon as I was released from the hospital last week, Lance immediately whisked me away to his mountain home. Our home. He had Sammy cancel my book tour and all media. Anything I couldn’t get out of was done via satellite or phone, and all my meetings with my editors was completed via video conference.

But mostly, he doted on me. He carried me everywhere, upstairs, downstairs, outside, even though the doctors told him walking would do me good. Lance cooked and got huffy when I wouldn’t let him spoon feed me, but while I loved the attention, even I had my limits of what my pride would allow. The compromise was allowing him to bathe me, which wasn’t a horrible thing at all.

And our mornings were my favorite time. Waking up in the master bedroom together, wrapped up in soft blankets, claiming the space for our own with every kiss, lick, bite, and thrust. Jake Hager didn’t live here.

We did.

Nudging my inner lips with his nose, Lance followed it with his tongue. “Good morning.”

Smiling softly, I watched him move between my legs, his head cradled between my thighs. He said it was his favorite way to wake me up. He was laying horizontal on the bed, his hands holding my ass or rubbing my back. He was careful not to touch my leg.

Lance was quiet for a few moments, leisurely enjoying teasing me as the sun rose up over the mountains. When his eyes finally met mine, my heart stuttered to a stop. His gaze was direct and fierce, and I knew the subject we had been avoiding for weeks was about to come up.

“What you did, Blair, protecting Penelope, was stupid, and rash, and completely irresponsible.” His deep voice rumbled in his chest, and I could feel it shake my legs, trailing to my core and making me wetter for him.

Refusing to break eye contact, I lightly shrugged. “She didn’t see the bomb or the timer, Lance. Spears was too far away. I did what I had to do.”

Lance squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face against my thigh. “We are here to protect _you_ , Baby.”

I trailed my finger over his furrowed eyebrows. “And you did. Everyone did. I’m safe, we are all ok. A little banged up but we’re alive. Lance,” I waited for him to open his eyes to look at me. “You know I’m not the type of woman to stand idly by and watch those closest to me get hurt.”

He nodded. “It’s one of the reasons I love you, your strength and braveness.”

My eyes softened. “You taught me a lot. I listened to you and your team when you did briefings and gave reports. I heard what to look for, I learned how to keep my eyes and ears open. It’s no different than learning self-defense. And there was no way that I could live with myself if one of you got hurt on my behalf. I just couldn’t.”

The pain was still in his eyes, and it hurt me to see it. “I can’t lose you again, Blair.”

“I’m right here,” I reassured him. We were silent again, enjoying being close together as the birds woke up and began singing. It was going to be a beautiful day, and I wanted to experience it.

“I want to take a ride today, Lance.”

Grinning at me, he wiggled his eyebrows. “I know what you can ride.”

Smothering my grin, I was happy he was reverting back to his old ways. Not that I wanted him to know that. When I had first met Lance, he was rude and obnoxious, and that’s what intrigued me. His tough outer layer never deterred me. But slowly that went away as the seriousness of my situation crept in. And after being reunited only to have Stu Grayson, a complete stranger to me, fixate and try to kill me just for speaking out against domestic violence, all humor seemed to evaporate from Lance’s personality.

Until we came back home. He was opening up to me. Being vulnerable. I felt it in his hugs, when he laid his head in my lap and let me run my fingers through his hair, when he bathed me and I bathed him. It was there. The fear of losing me again.

“I want to ride the motorcycle.”

“Not happening, baby girl.” Using one hand to curl around my hip and open me up to him with his fingers, Lance used his long tongue to rub small circles on my clit.

Heat flashed through my body and I clutched my pillow tighter to my bare chest. “But Lance,” I whined.

He wasn’t having it. “It’s too soon. Not to mention, you’d have to wear pants. And excuse me for saying,” he swiped my opening with his tongue and then gave a sexy suck to my clit. “But I prefer you in those barely there booty shorts. I want to keep you as naked as I can for as long as I can.”

Nibbling my lower lip, I couldn’t help but reach down to grip his hair in my hand. It was loose, pooling over my legs, adding to the sultry sensation he was creating. “I can wear the shorts and I can sit in front of you. Just down the driveway and back. Imagine the feeling of my ass on your cock.”

He growled, pulling me tighter against his mouth as he devoured me. “You want to feel the bike rumbling against your clit, Baby?”

His voice was doing that all on it’s own, mimicking the sensation he described. “Please?”

He shook his head no and all thought went away as he distracted me in the most perfect way possible. Lance was thorough, as he was in everything he did. He refused to rush, although I begged and pleaded, both with my hips and my words, but he wouldn’t relent until he had me in tears and ready to tip over the edge.

And then he disengaged from my core and stood up next to the bed. “Come over here and get that pretty mouth on my cock, Blair.”

Delirious, I opened my mouth and let him guide me to a comfortable position. He was so gentle with me, but demanding in his wants, and I couldn’t resist him even if I tried. I was now closer to the edge of the bed, still on my side, a pillow wedged between my legs to keep my right leg steady. And Lance’s dick in my mouth.

“Just wet it, baby. I need to be inside you.” His large hand engulfed my head as he guided me to the pace he wanted.

A shiver of anticipation went through my body. I wanted that too, but first I wanted him to know how much I loved him. Running my tongue over his length, I used one hand to hold him at the base, keeping him steady. The position I was in was a little hard on my neck, Lance was not a short man. Taking him in my mouth, I moaned in pleasure, loving his warmth and taste. Circling my tongue around his tip and then sliding down, I could feel the tension in his body and I flushed with pleasure.

“Stop, Blair,” he bit out, but he made me move to actually interrupt me.

Ignoring him, I continued to bob my head, taking more and more of him each time.

“Fuck, Blair. Enough.” Lance stepped back, pulling himself out of my mouth. I whined, my tongue trying to chase after him. Looking down at me, he gave me that sexy smirk that always made me wet. “You know I always cum in your pussy, Blair, never in your mouth.

God, he had a way with words. “Pick me up, Lance.” I reached up to him.

“Baby, your arm and your leg,” he protested, but he was already doing what I asked, lifting me so that I was now standing on the bed.

My arm was wrapped in a bandage, mostly to keep me from scraping it during the day. My leg was left exposed because it wasn’t as bad as my arm and was healing nicely. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I all but crawled into his embrace. Lance lifted my legs over his elbows and settled me down over his cock.

“Fuck,” he drawled, his large hands holding my hips to control my descent. I didn’t want that. I just wanted him to drill me down, but in our current position, I couldn’t obtain that.

“Please,” I groaned, my nails digging into the back of his neck. “I need all of it.”

That smirk was back. Lance teased me by lowering me down a bit, and then lifting me back up. He did it a few times, enjoying my whining and moans. “You want me?” I didn’t get another change to beg before he slammed me down on his dick, stretching me and filling me up.

The sound that came out of my mouth was close to a scream, but ended on a satisfied moan. There was nothing like having Lance inside of me. I felt full, sexy, safe, and on fire all at once.

“Are you ok?” he panted, sweat breaking on his brow.

A thrill ran through me. His constant care of me always melted my heart. “Yeah. More.”

“Greedy.”

But he began to move me, using his arms to lift me up and down. My legs dangled in the air and I threw my head back, enjoying the sensations only Lance Archer could provoke in me. He dipped his head and took my nipple in his mouth, first one and then the other, causing a flood of wetness to surround his cock. His arms tightened, bringing me closer to his body, folding me almost in half. But I loved feeling his hairy chest against my smooth one, our bodies moving together in a dance only we understood.

Sweat dampened my skin causing us to slide against each other. Our breath was ragged and filled the quietness of the room. Looking up at him, I knew the love I had for him shined in my eyes. I couldn’t help it. This man had rescued me, propped me up on my own two feet, and stood by my side through some of the roughest times in my life.

My legs began to shake in the crook of his arms. “Lance,” I panted.

“I know,” he grunted in return. “I can feel you squeezing me.” Dipping low, he placed my back on the bed and pushed my legs to my chest. “Ok?” he asked.

I nodded. He could have done anything to me at that moment and I would have let him, no matter if my thigh was screaming from stretching skin or my arm was weak from holding onto him.

He planked above me, his arms braced next to my head and his feet on the floor, pounding into me like it was our last chance to touch. My core tightened around his shaft, desperation filling the both of us as we stared into each other’s eyes.

It was impossible for me to look away. He had me completely entranced. “I’m so close,” I whispered, my breath stuck in my chest. I never wanted this feeling to end, but at the same time I was near sobbing with desperation.

Lance continued to piston in and out of me, dragging his cock through my core and leaning on my clit in the way he knew I needed. “I got you, Babe. Come on.”

Even before he finished his sentence, my orgasm hit my bloodstream like a wild fire, engulfing me. My body locked up and shook against Lance as he thrusted into me grunting, and then stilled as he filled me up.

He moaned, going to his knees beside the bed as he pulled out of me, ignoring my whine at the loss of contact. Lance rested his head on my stomach as we both tried to catch our breath.

“Ok, I’ll take you for a ride. But just a short one.”

I giggled, cradling his head against me, riding the last few waves of my orgasm. “You know I love you, right?”

He nodded, kissing my stomach. “I’m going to keep you safe, Blair. It’s what I do.”

Biting my lip at the sincerity in his voice, I answered him. “I know. And you are very good at what you do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End
> 
> P.S. Thank you for coming aboard the slow burn train! I hope you enjoyed your trip and you come back soon! Suggestion box is open! Have a great day!


End file.
